PS 
1939 


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of  the 

University  of  California 


Los  Angeles 


Form  L-l 


TS 
1 


This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 

OCT  2  -i-  1924 


•Z6T 


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REVIEWS 


ESSAYS. 


BY    E.    G.     HOLLAND 


4"«V   f\  ""  **1  J 

79  .',  i       v         _ta,: 


BOSTON: 
WM.    CROSBY   AND    H.    P.    NICHOLS, 

111,  WASHINGTON  STREET. 

1849. 


BOSTON: 
PRINTED     BY     JOHN     -VVILSON, 

No.  21,  School-street. 


PS 


P  H  E  F  A  C  E. 


X 


THIS  volume  is  given  to  the  public,  in  answer  to  the  call 
of  numerous   friends  that  I   should  -bring  together,   for 
general  perusal,  several  Essays  on  different  subjects.     It 
is  also  given  as  the  expression  of  truths,  whose  influences 
are  not  unimportant  in  the  right  development  of  mind,  in 
an  age  when  many  high  moral  tendencies  are  counteracted 
by  those  which  operate  to  materialize  the  aims  and  aspira 
tions  of  men.     The  leading  idea  which  characterizes  the 
several  articles  here  published  —  the  supremacy  of  the 
spiritual  nature  in  all  that  constitutes  the  true  glory  of 
man  —  is  one  which  needs  to  be  brought  forward  in  clear 
and  bold  statements  into  the  literature  of  every  country, 
''  and  into  the  practical  development  of  every  people.     So 
ciety  can  have  no  exalted  aims  any  farther  than  this  view 
is  realized.     It  should  be  seen  and  felt  that  through  the 
universe  the  spiritual  holds  dominion  over  the  material, 
that  the   latter   is  a  ministering  servant  to   the  former. 
God  is  first.     Material  worlds  are  second.     It  is  under 
this  aspect  that  the  external  creation  always  strikes  us. 
So,  in  all  things  touching  human  nature,  the  soul  is  first ; 
whilst  the  organism  and  all  material  possession  are  second. 
From  the  soul,  therefore,  ought  we  to  start  in  the  investi 
gation  of  all  the  great  problems  of  human  interest.     God 
and  immortality  are  implied  and  established  by  its  ele- 


iv  PREFACE. 

ments.  The  universe  is  its  vast  and  expansive  mirror. 
Freedom,  education,  indeed  all  great  and  generous  pur 
poses,  are  to  draw  from  this  principle  their  strength  and 
nurture  ;  since  it  is  impossible  that  men  should  be  borne 
upward,  in  their  great  conflicts  and  struggles,  by  any 
agency  higher  than  motives  of  transient  and  selfish  in 
terest,  so  long  as  materialism  is  their  practical  and  their 
chief  philosophy. 

I  should  remark  that  the  article  on  Dr.  Channing  is 
written  with  the  previous  knowledge  that  very  many  into 
whose  hands  this  volume  will  be  likely  to  fall,  are  un 
acquainted  with  his  writings ;  a  fact  which  exerted  its  influ 
ence  over  the  style  and  manner  adopted  in  the  treatment 
of  the  subject.  I  have  not  spoken  of  Dr.  Channing's 
sectarian  relation,  because  he  is  so  nobly  free  from  all 
sectarian  limits.  He  seems  wider  and  greater  than  any 
denomination.  His  position,  as  it  seems  to  me,  inde 
pendently  overlooks  them  all.  He  belongs  to  all,  and  is 
therefore  fitted  to  address  the  world  in  a  universal  speech. 
The  Address,  at  the  close  of  the  Essays  here  published, 
forms  so  small  a  part  of  the  volume  as  to  constitute  no 
valid  reason  for  changing  the  name  under  which  these 
articles  are  published. 

In  the  hope  that  some  good  influences  may  proceed 
from  the  various  truths  here  set  forth,  I  would  confidingly 
offer  them  to  the  independent  appreciation  of  a  public, 
who,  there  is  much  reason  to  believe,  is  becoming  dis 
tinguished  by  the  increase  as  well  as  by  the  diffusion  of 
general  thoughtfulness  and  intelligence. 


E.  G.  HOLLAND. 

BOSTON,  Sept.  1,  1849. 


CONTENTS 


REVIEWS. 

Page 

CONFUCIUS 

42 
CHAINING 

1  01 

NATURAL  THEOLOGY 


ESSAYS. 

GENIUS 169 

BEAUTY 208 

RISING  OF  THOUGHT    .         . 2o 

277 
THE  INFINITE  HARMONY      '  '.   •     .        •         •        • 

301 


SORROW      .         . 
THE  IMMORTAL  LIFE 


HUMAN  FREEDOM  AND  RIGI 


LIFE  AN  ORIGINAL  POWER 

THE  OLD  AND  THE  NEW 


320 
350 


JUSTICE *         '         ° 

SUPREMACY  OF  HEART ,385 


394 
398 


ERRATA. 


Page  54,  line  15,  for  literal  read  liberal. 
„    246,    „    23,  for  motion  read  cmution. 


REVIEWS. 


CONFUCIUS. 


"  TUB  BRITISH  WORLD  IN  THE  EAST  ;  a  Guide,  Historical,  Moral, 
and  Commercial,  to  India,  China,  Australia,  South  Africa,  and 
the  other  Possessions  or  Connections  of  Great  Britain  in  the 
Eastern  and  Southern  Seas.  By  LEITCH  RITCHIE.  In  two  vols. 
Lond.  1847."  —  Octavo,  pp.  500,  512. 

"  FIVE  YEARS  m  CHINA,  from  1842  to  1847.  With  an  Account  of 
the  Occupation  of  the  Islands  of  Labuan  and  Borneo  by  her 
Majesty's  Forces.  By  Lieut.  F.  C.  FORBES,  R.  N.  Commander 
of  H.  M.  S.  Bonetta.  Lond.  1848."  —  Octavo,  pp.  405. 

THE  richest  production  of  any  clime  is  the  great 
man.  He  is  more  than  mountains,  rivers,  and  seas. 
The  universe  of  means,  with  its  infinitude  of  influ 
ences,  produces  nothing  so  great,  nothing  so  good, 
as  he.  He  is  the  end.  Hence  nature's  capital  is 
always  well  invested  when  her  purest  energy  con 
centrates  in  such  a  one ;  for  here  there  is  no  failure, 
no  loss,  no  cheat.  The  thoughts  of  such  a  man  are 
living  ;  his  voice  is  ever  to  us ;  he  is  our  contempo 
rary,  though  born  in  the  most  distant  ages.  We  are 
thankful  to  the  past,  that  it  yields  us  shells,  obelisks, 
vegetable  petrifactions,  and  the  bones  of  animal 
monsters  ;  but  we  are  far  more  grateful  that  it  gives 
us  a  few  great  men,  who  are  its  life  and  history. 
These  let  the  true  antiquarian  seek,  that  their  eyes 
may  again  sparkle  with  thought,  that  their  masterly 
l 


2  CONFUCIUS. 

speech  may  burn  in  the  heart  of  the  active  present. 
God  has  many  voices  in  history.  And  so  far  as  a 
man  is  great  and  true,  he  belongs  to  all  time,  like 
the  sun  and  moon  ;  and  so  far  as  he  is  not  this,  it  is 
needless  to  know  him.  We  therefore  do  well  to 
look  somewhat  reverently  to  the  past ;  for  it  had  its 
great  men,  who  perhaps,  through  the  world's  forget- 
fulness  and  isolation,  may,  in  an  important  sense, 
still  become  its  teachers. 

The  citizens  of  China  proper  constitute  at  least 
one  third  part  of  the  human  race ;   and,  from  the 
ample  resources  of  nature  there  existing,  one  might 
anticipate  a  high  development  of  mind.    Yet  through 
the  long  ages  of  the  Chinese  empire,  the  duration  of 
which  neither  they  nor  we  understand,  but  one  great 
man  has  appeared,  the  vast  shadow  of  his  mind 
covering  all.      The   whole   power    of  the    Chinese 
nature  is  represented  in  him,  beyond  whose  thought 
no  one  attempts  to  go.     Temples  arise  to  his  fame 
in  nearly  every  city  and  village  of  the  empire.     The 
scholar  burns  incense  to  his  memory  when  about  to 
undergo  his  public  examination,  whilst  to  the  mil 
lions  of  this  massive  race  his  name  is  the  synonyme 
of  wisdom  itself.     No  man   is   accounted   wise  or 
learned  who  is  not  familiar  with  his  books.     The 
rank  of  nobility,  with  the  highest  official  honors,  still 
distinguishes  his  descendants.     And,  in  the  world  of 
letters,  admiration  and  eulogy  have  gathered  around 
this  name  ;  the  skeptic  and  the  believer  in  our  religion 
alike  praising  him.     But  this  same  Confucius  met  in 
his  day  the  sorest  trials  ;    was  alternately  followed 
and  deserted,  admired  and  scorned.     He  was  not 


CONFUCIUS. 


3 


understood  ;  men  feared  him,  especially  the  little 
men  of  state.  He  battled  his  way  against  ignorance, 
envy,  and  vice.  Plots  were  formed  against  his  life. 
Every  thing  combined  to  test  the  greatness  of  his 
heart.  In  short,  he  had  the  legacy  of  all  great  re 
formers,  —  a  measure  of  the  fear,  hatred,  and  derision 
of  his  times. 

The  wonder  is  not  that  a  great  man  appeared  in 
China  or  in  Persia.  Human  nature  is  rich  in  its  ele 
ments  ;  and  he  who  properly  estimates  the  influence 
of  the  universe  in  the  development  of  mind  marvels 
not  when  he  finds  the  great  and  the  good  man  be 
yond  the  limits  of  Judea,  or  the  inclosure  of  his  own 
particular  civilization.  Notwithstanding  the  unity  of 
the  race  and  the  fraternal  ties  that  unite  its  greatest 
representatives  to  the  mass,  it  cannot,  however,  be 
denied,  that  each  great  man  is  modified  by  the  pecu 
liar  genius  of  the  nation  whose  life  he  inherits.  Thus, 
it  is  plain  that  Socrates  is  the  Grecian  great  man ; 
Cicero,  we  think,  the  Roman  ;  Moses,  the  Hebrew  ; 
Napoleon,  the  French  ;  and  Peter,  the  Russian  ;  — 
each  is  great  through  the  particular  genius  of  his 
country  and  race.  Confucius  is  the  Chinese  great 
man,  differing  in  the  order  and  hues  of  his  moral 
genius  from  the  Greek,  Roman,  and  Hebrew,  as 
widely  as  the  Chinese  differ  from  Greeks,  Romans, 
and  Jews. 

"  To  understand  Confucius,"  says  Mr.  Ritchie,  "  is  to 
understand  China.  He  had  no  idiosyncracy.  He  was  an 
incarnation  of  the  national  character,  a  mouthpiece  of  the 
national  feelings  ;  and  he  was  only  greater  than  the  rest 
of  his  countrymen,  by  being  imbued  with  that  genin« 


4  CONFUCIUS. 

which  gives  vitality  and  energy  to  thoughts  that  lie  dor 
mant,  though  existing  in  the  minds  of  meaner  men.  He 
was  the  mental  light  which  touches,  as  Dry  den  expresses 
it,  the  sleeping  images  of  things ;  and,  at  his  appearance, 
all  becomes  visible  that  before  was  obscure,  all  distinct 
that  before  was  unintelligible,  and  the  tumultuous  ideas 
of  a  great  nation  fell  gradually  into  peace  and  order  and 
harmony."  —  Vol.  ii.  p.  151. 

A  few  words  here  on  this  unique  and  ancient  na 
tion  will  not  appear  an  unauthorized  digression. 
The  empire  is  indeed  a  national  pyramid,  whose 
apex  looks  down  upon  the  ruins  of  the  proudest 
kingdoms  of  antiquity,  apparently  defying  those  dis 
solving  agencies  which  have  laid  low  the  proudest 
organizations  of  the  past.  For  thousands  of  years  it 
has  thus  stood,  its  civilization,  whatever  it  is,  always 
prevailing  over  the  conqueror  ;  and  now,  with  a  pop 
ulation  greater  than  that  of  all  Europe,  it  remains 
united  and  unbroken.  This  is,  indeed,  a  philosophi 
cal  marvel,  compelling  the  conclusion,  that  govern 
ment  there  has  firm  pillars  on  which  to  rest,  —  that 
the  popular  mind  has  constancy,  at  least.  In  the 
language  of  phrenology,  we  might  say  that  the  coin 
cidence  between  the  great  height  of  the  Chinese 
head  in  the  region  of  firmness  and  veneration,  and 
the  unchangeableness  of  the  Chinese  institutions  and 
manners,  is  not  unworthy  of  notice.  These  two  facts 
doubtless  act  and  re-act  on  each  other ;  but  govern 
ment  flows  from  man,  we  are  sure,  in  a  deeper  sense, 
than  man  from  government.  The  reciprocal  action 
of  firmness  and  veneration  creates  submission  and 
constancy,  so  essential  to  the  perpetuity  of  any  gov- 


CONFUCIUS.  5 

ernment,  and  especially  of  this,  in  which  the  patri 
archal  idea  so  constantly  prevails.  There  is  no  trait 
more  prominent  in  the  Chinese  character  than  vener 
ation  for  the  past.  There  are  the  golden  ages.  The 
worship  of  ancestors,  universal  among  the  Chinese, 
tends  to  glue  them  to  the  past,  to  check  progress  and 
innovation.  And,  in  accordance  with  all  this,  the  Chi 
nese  are  quiet,  and  timidly  conservative.  They  have 
not  the  bold,  chivalrous  elements  of  character,  while 
there  is  a  systematic  industry  pervading  the  empire. 
In  their  exhibition  of  imagination  and  taste,  they  are 
minute  and  finical.  They  describe  too  much  what  a 
thing  is  to  leave  it  natural.  Wonder  and  imitation 
are  also  large.  Deference  to  superiors  is  woven  into 
the  growth  of  every  mind.  They  believe  in  Tien 
(the  Supreme  God),  the  perfectibility  of  human  na- 
uire,  the  impartial  compensations  of  justice,  and  the 
life  immortal.  Drama,  romance,  history,  poetry, 
ethics,  religion,  and  law,  they  have  of  their  kind  ; 
and  it  has  been  asserted,  that  nearly  every  man 
among  their  millions  is  able  to  read  and  write.  Per 
haps  the  two  ideas  most  characteristic  of  this  people 
are  deference  to  superiors,  and  veneration  for  the 
past. 

Confucius,  the  only  master-mind  that  the  nation 
has  produced,  is  to  be  contemplated  chiefly  as  a 
moral  teacher,  moving  in  the  sphere  of  the  states 
man.  He  never  spoke  as  a  prophet.  He  taught  no 
new  religion,  claimed  no  divine  inspiration,  and 
stood  never  on  the  ground  of  a  supernatural  mission. 
His  moral  genius  qualified  him  to  grasp  universal 
principles  flowing  through  the  nature  of  man,  and 
i* 


6  CONFUCIUS. 

existent  in  the  conditions  of  things.  To  these  he 
appealed.  Through  the  law  which  Heaven  has  en 
graved  on  all  hearts,  he  sought  to  reform  his  age  and 
people. 

The  age  to  which  Confucius,  in  his  personal  his 
tory,  belongs,  makes  him  the  contemporary,  or  nearly 
so,  of  Herodotus,  Pythagoras,  and  Solon.  He  was 
born  five  hundred  and  fifty  years  before  Christ.  The 
Chinese  historians  allege,  that  the  times  were  very 
evil ;  that  sad  corruption  prevailed  in  high  places  ;  that 
boundless  luxury,  inordinate  love  of  pleasure,  and 
fatal  disorders  in  government,  everywhere  prevailed. 
Religion,  the  source  and  nourisher  of  human  virtues, 
they  say,  was  overclouded  by  the  marvellous,  and 
weakened  by  superstition.  There  was  no  depth  of 
sincerity  in  the  age.  Truth  did  not  speak  from  the 
heart  of  man.  Life  had  died  out.  The  deepest 
wants  asked  for  the  true  man,  somewhat  as  the 
long-parched  earth  asks  heaven  for  rain.  He  came, 
as  come  God's  greatest  gifts  always,  when  most 
needed ;  he  came,  yet  his  own  people  received  him 
not  in  the  thorough  and  uniform  appreciation  of  his 
aim. 

The  spirit  of  mythology  never  neglects  the  ancient 
great  man.  Some  star  or  wondrous  appearance  wel 
comes  the  man  of  destiny.  Thus,  two  dragons,  the 
symbol  of  royalty  in  China,  "  encircled  the  house  " 
when  the  sublime  Confucius  was  born  ;  celestial  mu 
sic  rang  in  his  mother's  ears ;  and  on  the  breast  of 
the  infant  philosopher  appeared  the  sentence,  "  The 
maker  of  a  rule  for  settling  the  world."  This  bow 
ing  of  nature  to  the  great  man,  asserted  by  the 


CONFUCIUS.  7 

mythological  falsehood,  shadows  forth  this  truth,  — 
that  the  man  born  to  influence  and  govern  ages  is 
greater  than  outward  nature,  is  the  end  to  which  the 
universe  ministers ;  in  his  mind,  suns,  flowers,  and 
oceans  are  reproduced ;  all  things  do  him  homage  ; 
all  aid  the  spirit  that  conquers  the  error  and  darkness 
of  ages. 

It  may  be  asked,  Who  knows  that  Confucius  was 
the  great  man  his  disciples  make  him  ?  We  answer, 
that  the  danger  is  not,  that  a  great  man  will  be  held 
up  to  our  admiration  where  there  is  none  :  the  real 
danger  is,  that  the  portraiture  will  fall  below  the 
reality.  A  score  of  ordinary  minds  can  never  give 
us  a  truly  great  man,  from  the  fact  that  no  one  can 
rise  above  his  own  ideal ;  and  every  one's  ideal  of  a 
great  man  will  be  the  enlarged  likeness  of  his  own 
rnind.  Each  constructor,  furnishing  as  much  as  he 
will,  leaves  a  character  within  his  own  level.  'Mice 
never  create  mountains.  But  when  the  reality  has 
lived  among  men,  and  wrought  his  image  on  their 
minds,  then,  from  the  abundant  material  of  words 
and  acts,  he  may  be  set  forth,  probably  not  entire, 
but  as  the  section  of  a  grand  circle,  from  which  we 
may  ascertain  the  whole  indicated  by  the  part. 

According  to  Chinese  historians,  Confucius  was 
born  in  the  kingdom  of  Lu,  where  now  his  sepulchre 
remains,  during  the  reign  of  the  twenty-third  emperor 
of  the  dynasty  of  Tcheou.  By  his  mother's  side  he 
descended  from  the  noble  family  of  Yen ;  through 
his  father  he  claimed  descent  from  the  emperor  Tii, 
of  a  former  dynasty ;  which  royalty  of  blood  must 
have  smoothed  his  way  as  a  moral  teacher  into  the 


8  CONFUCIUS. 

courts  of  princes,  for  in  no  country  is  veneration  for 
rank  more  general.  We  know  of  no  historical  facts 
which  determine  how  far  this  circumstance  aided  his 
mission ;  but  surely  it  justifies  the  conclusion,  that 
Confucius  is  not  to  be  regarded  as  a  grand  instance 
of  individual  genius  rising  above  the  obstacles  of  ob 
scurity  and  poverty  to  hold  the  reins  of  spiritual 
empire  over  nations  and  ages.  He  started  on  van 
tage-ground  ;  though  the  nobility  of  his  family  now 
dates  from  him. 

Several  facts  are  reported  of  his  early  life.     At  the 
age  of  three  he  was  fatherless,  and  on  the  brow  of 

O  ' 

his  childhood  gravity  and  thoughtfulness  reposed. 
Great  maturity  of  faculties  is  ascribed  to  his  infancy. 
He  took  no  pleasure  in  sports.  But  nothing  is  related 
of  the  infant  Confucius  so  strange  as  in  the  wilds  of 
Persia  is  claimed  by  his  disciples  for  the  half-fabulous 
Zoroaster,  when  they  gravely  affirm  that  he  laughed 
the  day  he  was  born,  and  that,  as  a  presage  of  his 
future  knowledge,  his  brain  palpitated  so  strongly 
that  every  hand  approaching  it  was  instantly  repelled. 
At  the  age  of  fifteen,  Confucius  is  said  to  have 
mastered  the  sacred  "  Five  Books,"  and  indeed  all 
the  great  works  of  the  ancient  legislators,  from  the 
wells  of  whose  wisdom  he  never  ceased  to  draw. 
Four  years  later  he  entered  into  the  marriage  relation, 
but  soon  after  dissolved  it,  that  he  might,  in  perfect 
freedom  from  every  embarrassment,  give  himself  up 
to  the  political  and  moral  renovation  of  his  country  ; 
and  at  the  age  of  twenty-three  he  is  said  to  have 
entered  upon  his  public  career,  as  a  teacher  of  duty 
in  the  courts  and  palaces  of  princes.  These  are  the 


CONFUCIUS.  9 

most  interesting  facts  related  of  the  childhood  and  the 
youth  of  Confucius. 

Born  and  educated  among  the  nobility,  it  was 
natural  that  this  class  should  have  been  the  first  to 
hear  his  instructions.  It  is  very  certain  that  Confu 
cius  did  not  lack  faith  in  the  capacity  of  the  popular 
mind ;  for  the  idea  of  the  superior  worth  of  human 
nature  is  uniformly  clear  in  all  his  writings.  He 
said,  "  I  have  never  seen  a  man  incapable  of  virtue. 
All  can  gain  it."  But  he  lived  where  princes,  and 
not  the  people,  ruled  ;  where  the  virtues  and  vices  of 
the  great  in  office  were  imitated  ;  where  public  opi 
nion  came  always  from  the  few.  His  course  seemed 
to  say,  "  If  I  can  win  the  princes  and  their  courts  to 
wisdom  and  virtue,  —  through  their  influence  de 
scending  upon  the  mass,  I  will  gradually  reform  all 
the  people."  Nor  was  this  reformatory  scheme 
unworthy  of  his  mind.  The  few  have  always  created 
the  character  of  society. 

The  sun  has  most  splendor  at  its  rising.  So  the 
extraordinary  mind  often  ascends  the  horizon  in  mag 
nificence,  though  perhaps  soon  to  be  obscured  by 
clouds  or  darkened  by  eclipse.  Great  fame  followed 
the  first  efforts  of  this  youth,  Confucius.  Offices  of 
state  descended  upon  him.  He  accepted  and  he 
renounced  them,  as  might  best  suit  his  grand  purpose, 
the  successful  development  of  his  moral  views  among 
his  countrymen.  Real  greatness  is  never  captivated 
by  the  means.  After  society  had  given  him  this 
encouraging  reception,  after  he  had  worn  for  a  time 
the  honors  of  state,  and  before  he  had  experienced  the 
re-action  of  popular  favor,  he  disrobed  himself  of 


10  CONFUCIUS. 

all  official  dignities,  and  left  his  native  kingdom,  to 
enjoy  the  mental  benefit  of  travel  through  different 
parts  of  the  empire.  He  would  survey,  we  may 
imagine,  the  field  of  his  future  labors  and  influences. 
He  would  know  the  elements  of  society  for  himself. 
He  would  observe  the  scenes  of  nature  and  the  man 
ners  of  men  ;  and  doubtless  he  realized  the  truth  of 
one  of  his  own  profound  political  maxims,  subse 
quently  expressed,  —  "  Study  man  in  man  ;  for  from 
that  which  is  in  man  may  be  learned  that  by  which 
to  govern  men."  Thus  did  observation  and  study 
unite  to  enrich  a  spirit  whose  ideas  more  than  a  score 
of  centuries  have  not  exhausted. 

He  at  length  returned  to  his  native  kingdom  of  Lu, 
where  he  accepted  one  of  the  principal  offices,  and 
where  he  is  said  so  to  have  revolutionized  the  govern 
ment  as  to  have  brought  prince  and  subjects  under 
the  dominion  of  an  exalted  virtue,  wisdom,  and 
peace.  An  harmonious  family,  the  favorite  symbol 
of  a  well-ordered  realm  in  the  political  language  of 
China,  is  chosen  as  the  figure  by  which  to  represent 
the  elevation  to  which  he  had  brought  the  state. 
The  goodness  of  his  teaching  was  no  longer  a  prob 
lem  unsolved  by  practice.  The  happy  state  of  a 
whole  kingdom  proclaimed  the  reformer  to  be  no 
idle  theorist,  no  mere  dreamer  of  perfect  worlds  that 
human  beings  can  never  reach.  We  may  imagine 
the  happiness  of  the  great  and  good  man,  as  his  own 
eye  surveyed  this  result.  But  his  joy  was  soon  over 
clouded.  For  one  of  the  neighboring  princes,  moved 
by  envy  at  the  prosperous  condition  of  this  elevated 
kingdom,  artfully  planned  its  overthrow  by  sending 


CONFUCIUS.  11 

to  the  court  a  number  of  accomplished  ladies,  whose 
influence  so  turned  attention  to  feasts,  dances,  and 
various  diversions,  as  to  undermine  the  stern  public 
virtues  inculcated  by  the  reformer,  and  plunged  the 
nobles  and  all  into  the  errors  of  Epicurean  life  with 
its  natural  consequences.  The  philosopher  mourn 
fully  saw  the  tide  of  corruption  widening  in  its  dark, 
bold,  and  impetuous  rush,  threatening  to  destroy  the 
only  living  monument  that  bore  witness  to  the  supe 
rior  force  of  virtue  as  the"  source  of  prosperity  to  a 
kingdom.  He  boldly  remonstrated,  as  the  state  was 
sinking  ;  but,  the  charms  of  woman,  there  as  else 
where,  proving  more  potent  than  the  philosopher's 
voice,  and  unable  longer  to  resist  the  flood  of  dissi 
pation  so  boldly  flowing  over  a  country  whose  skies 
to  him  were  now  darkened  by  despair,  he  became  a 
voluntary  exile  from  his  native  Lu,  and  travelled 
through  all  the  great  cities  and  kingdoms  of  the  em 
pire.  This  conduct,  though  it  may  appear  impatient, 
and  in  a  degree  passionate  to  some,  was  but  the 
deliberate  embodiment  of  one  of  his  own  political 
maxims.  "  Readily  abandon,"  says  he,  "  thy  country, 
when  virtue  is  there  depressed  and  vice  encouraged. 
But  if  thou  design  not  to  renounce  the  maxims  of 
the  age  in  thy  retreat  and  exile,  remain  in  thy  miser 
able  country ;  for  what  reason  shouldst  thou  leave 
it  ? "  We  will  not  pause  to  discuss  the  propriety  of 
taking  from  a  community  the  light  of  virtuous  exam 
ple,  because  the  darkness  of  vice  settles  down  upon 
it ;  something  may  be  said  for  and  against  this  idea 
of  voluntary  exile  ;  but  the  passage  cited  proves,  that 
he  acted  deliberately  on  an  idea  that  had  the  sanction 


12  CONFUCIUS. 

of  his  whole  mind,  and  one  which  the  progress  of 
his  reason  in  future  years  never  induced  him  to  re 
nounce. 

But  fear  and  jealousy  awoke  at  his  presence,  as  he 
approached  the  various  provinces  and  cities.  The 
leading  men  trembled  lest  the  superiority  of  his  tal 
ents  should  undermine  their  power  ;  still  more,  per 
haps,  did  they  dislike  the  stern  reproofs  of  his  life, 
and  the  austere  strictness  of  his  morals,  making  him 
an  unpleasant  companion  to  the  licentious  nobles. 
None  of  the  great  kingdoms  through  which  he  passed, 
such  as  Tschi,  Goo,  Shi,  and  Tsoo,  invited  him  to 
take  up  his  residence  in  any  of  their  principal  cities. 
Occasionally  he  received  contemptuous  treatment. 
The  popular  voice  tuned  itself  by  the  favor,  indiffer 
ence,  or  opposition  of  the  resident  princes ;  now  own 
ing  him  as  wisdom's  oracle,  and  anon  bestowing  the 
opprobrium  of  satirical  song.  Was  he  not  doomed 
at  times  to  feel  the  force  of  that  truth  to  which  Pope 
has  given  poetic  utterance  ?  — 

"  Truths  would  you  teach,  or  save  a  sinking  land  > 
All  fear,  none  aid  you,  and  few  understand." 

But  he  well  endured  the  "  painful  preeminence  "  to 
which  his  wisdom  had  brought  him.  He  mourned 
that  the  sages  of  the  earth  Avere  so  few.  He  would 
till  the  world  Avith  Avise  men.  Neglecting  his  personal 
interests,  he  Avas  brought  to  the  borders  of  extreme 
poverty,  the  not  uncommon  lot  of  true  reformers. 
But  he  devised  for  himself  deliverance  in  becoming 
a  private  teacher.  He  Avould  master  his  evils.  Cer 
tain  sages  told  him  to  despair  of  the  world,  and 


CONFUCIUS.  13 

become  a  hermit.  But  greatness  is  never  discour 
aged.  He  had  too  much  faith  in  human  capacity, 
too  much  love  for  human  nature,  and  too  much  con 
fidence  in  the  omnipotence  of  truth,  to  obey  such 
counsel.  He  looked  all  his  evils  in  the  face,  and 
resolved  to  live  for  men  and  with  men  ;  no  longer 
confining  his  labors  to  palaces,  but  giving  them  freely 
to  all  who  would  listen  and  learn.  Nor  was  this, 
probably,  the  first  instance,  since  the  world  began, 
in  which  ill  success  among  the  great  has  awakened 
a  more  democratic  sentiment  in  the  bosom  of  a  gifted 
noble.  His  favorite  plan  of  reforming  all  through 
the  higher  classes  seems  to  have  somewhat  waned. 
He  probably  saw  that  social  position  was  not  the 
mightiest  power  ;  that  genial  souls  were  not  confined 
to  the  courts  of  princes ;  that  much  good  could  be 
done  to  that  common  mind  Avhich  in  later  ages  heard 
"  gladly  "  the  divinest  teaching,  —  teaching  which 
the  sophisticated  religionist  of  high  places  could  not 
half  so  well  apprehend. 

That  the  plan  of  Confucius  spread  over  a  wider 
territory  than  the  boundaries  of  China  Proper  is,  per 
haps,  matter  of  doubt,  although  it  is  affirmed,  that,  in 
the  expansion  of  his  benevolence,  he  had  purposed  the 
ullirnate  extension  of  his  labors  into  foreign  countries. 
He  was  a  universal  man  ;  and  it  cannot  be  supposed 
that  his  nation  formed  the  boundary  of  his  sympathy. 
That  he  was  capable  of  a  benevolent  scheme  which 
should  cover  the  whole  world  is  not  impossible  ;  and 
that  he  would  have  enlightened  the  whole  race,  were 
it  practicable,  cannot  be  doubted  ;  for  no  view  of  the 
brotherhood  of  man  can  be  wider  than  that  given  in 

2 


1  1  CONFUCIUS. 

one  of  his  simple  utterances,  namely,  "  All  the  men 
of  the  earth  are  thy  brethren."  It  is  certain,  how 
ever,  that  he  sent  out  no  missionaries  to  carry  his 
views  to  other  lands,  though  hundreds  were  em 
ployed  in  their  dissemination  within  the  limits  of 
China.  Every  wise  reformer  begins  at  home  ;  and, 
as  Confucius  did  not  succeed  during  his  lifetime  in 
effecting  the  moral  revolution  he  had  designed,  it  is 
impossible  to  determine  what  he  would  have  done 
for  the  world  out  of  China,  had  he  succeeded  at 
home.  It  is  certain  that  the  reformer  was  deeply 
conscious  that  the  moral  science  he  unfolded  be 
longed  to  the  human  race. 

During  the  life  of  this  wonderful  man,  the  his 
torians  allege  that  he  had  no  less  than  three  thousand 
disciples,  five  hundred  of  whom  are  said  to  have  at 
tained  the  highest  offices  of  government,  Avhilst  they 
celebrate  only  seventy-two  for  the  superiority  of  their 
attainments,  and  only  ten  for  a  perfect  capacity  to 
measure  their  master's  mind.  Perhaps  this  last  num 
ber  should  have  been  still  further  reduced.  Coming 
into  public  life  at  the  age  of  twenty-three,  and  dying 
in  the  seventy-third  year  of  his  age,  he  enjoyed  half 
a  century  in  which  to  perfect  his  views,  and  to  wit 
ness  their  effect  on  the  lives  of  others.  His  success 
in  reality  was  such  as  might  have  been  reasonably 
anticipated,  although  not  half  equal  to  his  hopes,  as 
shown  by  the  fact  that  the  last  three  years  of  his  life 
were  spent  in  retirement  and  sorrow,  in  view  of  the 
corruption  of  the  age  ;  and  he  died  despairing  of  the 
good  for  which  he  had  lived.  But  when  death  came, 
veneration  revived.  Some  princely  eyes  wept,  that 


CONFUCIUS.  lO 

Tien  had  taken  from  the  earth  so  great  a  light.  For 
lorn  Confucius  !  He  left  the  earth  without  a  glimpse 
of  the  glorious  influences  his  words  were  destined 
to  exert.  Yet,  for  all  that  appears  to  the  contrary, 
his  faith  in  what  he  had  taught  remained  as  adamant 
to  the  last.  On  the  banks  of  the  same  river  where 
his  scholars  once  gathered  around  him,  now  stands 
his  sepulchre,  whilst  in  his  many  temples,  visited  by 
the  reverent  footsteps  of  millions,  flowers,  fruits,  per 
fumes,  and  incense  are  everywhere  offered  to  his 
memory.  We  will  quote  the  sentence  written  in 
gilt  letters  on  a  table  in  all  his  temples,  not  only 
because  it  expresses  the  reverence  universally  felt 
for  his  name,  but  because  it  clearly  implies  that  the 
ideas  of  a  spiritual  nature  and  world  exist  in  the 
popular  faith  of  the  Chinese.  "  O  Confucius  !  our 
revered  master  !  Let  thy  spiritual  part  descend,  and 
be  pleased  with  this  tribute  of  respect  which  we  now 
humbly  offer  thee  !  "  —  a  prayer  without  reason,  ex- 
cept  as  uttered  by  those  who  believe  in  spiritual 
existences  after  death.* 

*  Lieutenant  Forbes  asserts  that  the  number  of  temples  erected 
to  the  memory  of  Confucius  is  "  upwards  of  1560."  These  tem 
ples,  he  says,  "  usually  cover  an  enormous  area ;  one  establish 
ment  at  Ningpo  occupies  about  ten  acres  of  land,  laid  out  in 
ornamental  temples  of  all  sizes,  triumphal  entrances,  fountains, 
and  tanks,  and  courts  planted  with  trees,  mostly  yew.  But, 
except  on  occasion  of  a  festival,  these  are  rarely  or  never  visited ; 
and  the  grass  grows  in  abundance  through  the  interstices  of  the 
pavement.  The  only  ornaments  are  carved  beams  and  huge 
frames,  containing  maxims  and- sayings  of  the  patriarch."  The 
following  curious  estimate  of  the  sacrificial  honors  paid  to  his 
name,  we  give  in  the  words  of  Lieutenant  Forbes.  "  It  is  calcu 
lated,"  says  he,  "  that  there  are  sacrificed  every  year,"  on  the  two 


16  CONFUCIUS. 

From  the  historical  facts  in  the  life  of  Confucius, 
we  now  pass  to  a  sketch  of  his  abstract  views,  pre 
cepts,  and  opinions.  We  would  again  remind  our 
readers,  that  he  is  presented  to  us  as  the  statesman 
and  the  moral  teacher,  not  as  the  prophet  or  apostle 
of  a  new  religion.  But  his  statesmanship  is  not  his 
strong  point ;  for  he  was  not  only  content  with  the 
past,  but  even  praised  the  legislation  of  antiquity  as 
the  model  of  perfection.  The  great  and  beautiful 
fact  in  his  statesmanship  seems  to  be  the  reliance  he 
constantly  places  on  virtue  as  the  only  means  of 
safety  and  prosperity  to  the  state.  Man's  relation 
to  this  harmonizes  Avith  his  relations  to  Tien,  man 
kind,  and  justice,  and  partakes  of  all  the  solemnity 
and  greatness  which  the  universal  ethics  of  nature 
impose.  But  all  the  points  of  view  under  which 
Confucius  may  be  contemplated  are  secondary  to 
that  of  the  moral  teacher,  a  higher  than  which  can 
not  be  conceived. 

Before  we  undertake  the  exhibition  of  his  leading 
thoughts,  we  would  notice  two  remarkable  traits  of 
his  mind,  which,  though  apparently  discordant,  yet 
in  the  action  of  his  genius  are  made  to  harmonize. 
We  mean  his  reverence  for  the  past,  and  his  intuitive 

festivals  held  in  honor  of  Confucius,  "  6  bullocks,  27,000  pigs, 
5,800  sheep,  2,800  deer,  and  27,000  rabbits ;  besides  27,000  pieces 
of  silk  that  are  burned  upon  his  altars."  — Pp.  124,  125. 

Lieutenant  Forbes  confines  himself  to  a  very  slight  notice  of 
the  personal  history  and  teachings  of  Confucius,  the  purpose  of  his 
work  not  requiring  more.  Mr.  Ritchie  treats  the  subject  some 
what  more  at  large,  but  still  without  any  pretension  to  fulness. 
We  have  gathered  the  materials  used  in  the  present  article  almost 
exclusively  from  other  sources. 


CONFUCIUS,  1  / 

power.  No  man  esteemed  the  past  more  than  he. 
He  ever  quoted  its  writings  and  its  illustrious  exam 
ples.  By  its  light  he  would  reprove  and  instruct, 
the  present.  As  the  Chinese  great  man,  it  is  natural 
that  he  should  exhibit  this  trait  of  his  race ;  nor  can 
it  be  questioned,  that,  through  this  apparent  defect, 
he  brought  a  deep  and  universal  feeling  of  his  nation 
under  tribute  to  his  cause.  It  is  not  uncommon  for 
the  truly  great  man  to  feel  deeply  the  poverty  both 
of  the  past  and  the  present,  and,  reaching  forward, 
to  brinof  down  the  unfathered  thoughts  of  future 

O  O  <~J 

times.  But  Confucius  only  mourned  the  present. 
He  turned  admiring  eyes  toward  an  Eden  of  sages 
and  princes  far  back  in  the  distant  lime.  So  much 
did  he  dwell  on  the  wisdom  of  the  ancient  worthies, 
Yao,  Shun,  Tching-tang,  Yu,  and  Ven-Vang,  that 
he  came  finally  to  be  regarded  very  much  as  the 
representative  of  the  imperial  sages,  And  so  far 
was  he  from  wishing  to  conceal  this  character  under 
the  mantle  of  original  wisdom,  that  he  publicly  ac 
cepted  it. 

But  his  was  no  merely  traditional  mind.  He  shed 
upon  the  antiquity  he  explored  the  light  of  his  own 
superlative  genius  ;  so  that  the  past  which  he  saw 
was  not  the  past  that  others  saw.  He  readily  per 
ceived  the  great  principles  into  which  facts  are 
resolved.  "  The  whole  doctrine  of  the  three  hun 
dred  poems,"  said  Confucius,  "  is  reduced  to  these 
few  words,  Su  Vu  Sie,  which  import  that  we  ought 
not  to  think  any  thing  that  is  wicked  or  impure." 
As  an  instance  of  the  clearness  with*which  he  saw 
the  Universal,  we  will  present  the  opening  para- 

2* 


18  CONFUCIUS. 

graphs  of  his  first  two  Books,  translated  from  the 
French  of  the  Jesuit  missionaries  of  Pekin. 

"  The  true  wisdom  is  to  enlighten  the  spirit  and  to 
purify  the  heart,  to  love  mankind  and  to  cause  them  to 
love  virtue  ;  —  to  surmount  every  obstacle  in  order  to  he 
united  to  the  Supreme  Good,  and  to  he  attached  only  to 
it."—"  Tien  has  written  his  law  in  our  hearts,  nature  has 
revealed  it,  the  rules  of  manners  are  founded  on  its  teach 
ings  ;  wisdom  consists  in  knowing  them,  virtue  in  follow 
ing  them." 

Indeed,  it  is  almost  impossible  for  Confucius  to 
touch  a  topic,  however  local  it  may  be,  without  com 
pelling  it  to  yield  some  abstract  thought,  some  uni 
versal  law.  This  highest  power  of  genius  —  the 
ability  to  see  at  once  the  principles  which  lie  at  the 
bottom  of  facts  —  was  his  in  a  preeminent  degree, 
and  it  shed  a  light  over  all  the  homage  he  paid  to 
the  past. 

He  quoted  the  ancient  Odes  and  Princes,  never 
without  wisdom,  and  often  with  eloquence.  The 
passages  quoted  served  to  introduce  his  topics,  and. 
connected  with  the  comments  of  his  own  mind, 
spoke  with  new  energy  to  the  minds  he  addressed. 

"  It  is  written,"  says  he,  "  in  the  Chou-king,  '  Apply 
yourselves  to  reform  and  to  renew  the  manners  of  the 
people.'  "  Again  :  "  In  the  Chi-king  it  is  written,  '  The 
Mienman  (a  hird)  knows  how  to  perch  itself  on  the  trees 
of  the  hill.'  Alas !  this  small  hird  places  itself  aright ; 
how  does  man  appear  not  to  know  ?  Ought  the  rays  of 
reason,  that  enlighten  him,  to  direct  him  less  surely  than 
the  instinct  of  nature  this  wild  sparrow  ?  "  —  "  The  Ode 


CONFUCIUS.  19 

says,  '  An  irreproachable  life  carries  afar  an  impression  of 
light  and  innocence  which  corrects  the  manners  of  the 
people.'  "  —  "  The  poet  sings,  '  The  lute  has  nothing  so 
sweet  as  the  voice  of  the  spouse  who  loves  concord.  O 
life  of  hearts  and  of  minds  !  thou  hast  the  joy  and  felicity 
of  brothers.'  "  —  "  '  The  eagle,'  says  the  poet,  '  takes  his 
flight,  and  soars  beyond  the  clouds ;  the  dolphin  plunges 
with  rapidity,  and  sees  the  bottom  of  the  sea.'  " 

From  the  last  symbol  the  speaker  could  say, — 
Behold  the  saint !  He,  too,  rises  into  the  sublime 
heights,  and  descends  into  the  profound  depths  ! 

"  It  is  written  in  the  Chi-king,  '  Such  as  saw  the  reeds 
which  grew  on  the  banks  of  the  Ki  adorn  it  perpetually 
with  new  foliage  ;  spreading  wide  their  branches,  and  dis 
playing  all  around  a  verdure  that  charmed  the  eyes,  — 
such  offer  to  our  notice  the  good  prince  Ouen-ouang. 
His  mind  is  as  an  ivory  sculptured,  —  like  a  diamond  cut 
and  polished.  Its  perfection  is  his  work.  Oh  the  eleva 
tion  of  his  thoughts,  and  the  nobleness  of  his  sentiments, 
the  dignity  of  his  person !  His  glory  shall  be  immortal 
as  his  virtues.'  " 

These  are  fair  specimens  of  the  writings  used  by 
him.  Frequent  are  his  appeals  to  the  legislative  and 
the  poetic  minds  of  former  time.  But  the  ancient 
saying  was  his  servant,  not  his  master.  He  dealt  in 
old  things  somewhat  as  the  spirit  of  nature  deals 
with  particles  and  elements  as  old  as  the  creation, 
constantly  working  them  into  new  forms  of  life. 

He  began  with  the  inward  life. 

"  Labor  to  purify  thy  thoughts ;  for,  if  thy  thoughts 
are  not  impure,  neither  will  thy  actions  be."  —  "  The 


20  CONFUCIUS. 

wise  man  seeks  the  cause  of  his  defects  in  himself;  but 
the  fool,  avoiding  himself,  seeks  it  in  all  others  besides 
himself." 

Moral  genius  always  penetrates  the  fact,  that 
every  man's  outward  life  is  but  a  stream  from  the 
invisible  fountain  of  inward  mind  ;  and  though  the 
stupid  may  not  detect,  and  the  ritualist  may  deny  it, 
this  is  evermore  the  primary  truth  in  all  ascent  to 
moral  perfection.  The  superficial  teacher  takes  you 
abroad  for  deliverance  ;  the  true  teacher  brings  you 
home,  and  opens  the  unseen  springs  of  life  within 
you.  This  did  Confucius. 

"  The  laws  of  conduct,"  said  he,  "  are  immutable  :  they 
were  no  more  the  same,  were  they  able  to  change."  — 
"  There  are  things  more  sublime  than  the  eye  has  ever 
seen  or  the  ear  heard  :  it  is  in  the  sanctuary  of  the  con 
science  that  he  studies  them." 

Confucius  was  no  materialist.  The  soul  was  of  a 
higher  nature,  and  its  spiritual  beauty  transcended 
the  grandeur  of  all  outward  scenes. 

The  supreme  good,  or  chief  end  of  man,  is, 
according  to  Confucius,  the  entire  conformity  of 
human  action  with  right  reason.  Virtue  is  the  end 
of  life.  This  view  sheds  its  moral  brightness  over 
all  he  says.  He  contemplates  every  topic  from  its 
moral  point  of  view.  This  is  as  prominent  in  his 
politics  as  in  his  most  abstract  discussion  of  morals. 
And  as  the  philosopher  comes  to  us  very  much  in 
the  envelope  of  the  statesman,  we  must  dwell  for  a 
moment  on  some  of  his  political  thoughts. 


CONFUCIUS. 


21 


"A  kingdom  is  rich  only  by  justice  and  virtue."  — 
"  Virtue  is  the  sun  of  government."  —  "  There  is  no  dif 
ference  in  this  respect  between  an  emperor  and  the  least 
of  his  subjects.  Virtue  is  the  root  of  all  good.  To  cul 
tivate  it  is  'the  first  duty  and  the  most  serious  concern  of 
life.  If  one  neglects  it,  the  disorders  of  the  heart  pass 
into  the  conduct,  and  he  builds  only  upon  ruins."  —  "Vir 
tue  is  the  unshaken  foundation  of  the  throne,  and  the 
ever-flowing  source  of  authority ;  riches  and  offices  are 
only  the  ornament."  —  "  Justice  is  the  most  precious  and 
inexhaustible  treasure  of  the  state."  —  "  Confucius  says, 
of  governing  with  equity,  that  it  resembles  the  north 
star,  which  is  fixed,  and  all  the  stars  surround  it." 

These  passages  show  us  the  supreme  importance 
which  Confucius  attached  to  moral  principle  as  an 
element  of  dignity  and  happiness  to  the  state.  To 
him,  the  chief  good  of  man  and  that  of  the  state 
were  the  same.  No  policy,  no  craft  of  the  politician, 
could  sustain  the  glory  of  a  kingdom.  Nothing  but 
the  triumph  of  the  great  moral  laws,  united  with 
deliberate  wisdom,  could  do  this.  This  lesson  of 
ages,  prominent  as  the  sun  in  the  politics  of  Confu 
cius,  and  not  less  so  in  all  the  glories  and  ruins  of 
the  past,  is  still  one  in  which  mankind  but  half  be 
lieve,  and  consequently  it  is  but  half  obeyed  ;  for 
states,  as  well  as  persons,  usually  act  from  their  real 
faith.  He  said  that  the  royal  robe  should  always  be 
humbly  Avorn.  He  constantly  urged  upon  princes 
the  most  solemn  sense  of  their  responsibility,  affirm 
ing  that  the  destiny  of  the  people  was  ever  in  their 
hands.  Those  who  regarded  the  magnificence  of 
the  state  as  the  offspring  of  riches,  rather  than 


Z'4  CONFl/Cll'S. 

of  wisdom  and  virtue,  he  called  base  men.  He  said 
the  prince  should  seek  virtue  more  than  talent  and 
genius  in  those  whom  he  might  honor  with  office. 

O  O 

He  would  check  the  ambition  for  territory.  He 
taught  that  a  kingdom  was  large  enough  when 
its  subjects  were  contented.  The  ideal  prince  de 
manded  by  Confucius  was  indeed  a  sublime  being. 
He  was  perfectly  the  master  of  himself.  He  dis 
played  in  his  example  all  the  virtues  he  would  have 
his  subjects  imitate.  His  prince  desired  little  of 
what  other  men  sought.  He  looked  down  upon 
riches,  children,  and  life  itself,  as  but  transient  ad 
vantages.  "  Yao,"  said  he,  "  saw  nothing  above 
him  but  heaven,  to  which  he  was  entirely  con 
formed."  Few  Yaos  were  there  in  his  day  ! 

So  strong  was  his  reliance  on  moral  power,  and 
so  clement  was  his  heart,  that  he  found  much  fault 
with  the  severe  corporal  punishments  inflicted  by  the 
magistrates.  It  is  good  to  hear  a  mild  voice  of 
mercy  coming  from  the  distance  of  twenty-five  hun 
dred  years.  It  is  good  to  behold  one  towering  up 
in  spiritual  height  above  the  practice  of  his  times, 
and  to  hear  him  urging  princes  to  wield  the  power 
of  clemency  and  good  example  over  their  subjects, 
and  telling  them  that  the  prevalence  of  severe  pun 
ishments  is  proof  of  their  want  of  virtue.  It  is  still 
common  in  China  to  inflict  suffering  with  the  bam 
boo,  and  many  die  after  the  infliction  of  one  hundred 
blows.  Notwithstanding  the  tenderness  of  which  we 
have  spoken  as  belonging  to  Confucius,  it  should 
not  be  inferred  that  he  would  hold  the  reins  of  gov 
ernment  with  a  lax  and  inefficient  hand ;  for  he  dis- 


CONFUCIUS.  23 

tinctly  says,  —  "  The  beneficence  of  a  prince  shines 
not  less  in  the  rigors  he  exercises,  than  in  the  most 
affecting  proofs  of  his  goodness." 

In  the  analysis  of  his  political  views,  it  is  not  a 
little  remarkable  that  the  idea  of  individual  self- 
government  should  have  been  the  basis  of  all  his 
wisdom.  He  began  with  the  individual  man.  In 
the  perfect  self-control  gained  by  one  man,  he  saw 
the  symbol  of  government  for  the  state,  the  empire, 
and  the  world.  And  Avhy  not  ?  Is  not  right  and 
justice  in  one  man  the  universal  right  and  justice  ? 
Thus  runs  a  paragraph  of  the  Tahio  :  — 

"  A  prince,  who  wished  to  conquer  the  whole  empire  to 
innocence  and  truth,  applied  himself  assiduously  to  govern 
well  his  states.  He  began  by  putting  his  house  in  good 
order  ;  his  chief  care  was  to  regulate  his  conduct  ;  he 
applied  himself,  above  all,  to  rectify  his  inclinations ;  he 
labored  very  much  to  invigorate  his  resolutions  ;  in  order 
to  strengthen  his  resolutions,  he  strove  to  establish  his 
thoughts;  finally,  to  establish  his  thoughts,  he  aspired  to 
reasoning,  even  to  the  primal  origin  and  final  end  of  all 
creatures,  and  formed  to  himself  a  clear  idea. 

"  In  effect,  the  clear  idea  of  the  origin  and  the  end  of 
all  creatures  established  his  thoughts ;  his  thoughts  being 
established,  these  strengthened  his  resolutions ;  his  reso 
lutions  being  confirmed,  these  served  to  rectify  his  in 
clinations  ;  his  inclinations  being  corrected,  these  served 
to  regulate  his  conduct ;  his  conduct  being  rightly  ordered, 
it  was  easy  to  put  his  house  in  good  order ;  the  good 
order  reigning  in  his  house  facilitated  the  good  admini 
stration  of  his  states ;  and  his  states,  finally,  being  well 
governed,  gave  tone  to  the  whole  empire,  and  virtue  was 
made  to  flourish." 


24  CONFUCIUS. 

The  author  of  these  thoughts  evidently  saw  in 
one  the  elements  of  all.  He  saw  that  nothing  was 
done  in  the  science  of  self-government,  until  there 
was  permanence  and  continuity  of  thought ;  nor  can 
it  strike  us  as  other  than  an  extraordinary  idea,  that 
he  should  recommend  the  study  of  the  universe  in  the 
relation  of  cause  and  effect  as  the  best  mode  of  ac 
quiring  order  and  clearness  in  the  intellectual  opera 
tions,  without  which  self-control  is  utterly  impossible. 

We  now  take  leave  of  Confucius  as  the  statesman  ; 
remarking  simply,  that,  rare  as  it  is  to  find  the  moral 
philosopher  under  the  garb  of  the  statesman,  the 
union  of  the  two  is  by  no  means  unnatural.  Selfish 
ness  and  craft  were  as  common  to  the  politics  of  his 
day  as  they  are  to  ours.  But  from  that  selfish  level, 
Confucius  towered  upward  as  a  mountain  from  the 
plain. 

Though  the  love  of  nature  distinguished  him,  as  it 
does  all  harmonious  minds,  he  did  not  cover  his 
ideas  with  a  profuseness  of  symbol.  Indeed,  his  use 
of  imagery  is  very  limited,  much  more  so  than  is 
common  to  the  genius  of  Oriental  minds ;  sensible 
objects  coming  in  here  and  there  as  mere  illustra 
tion.  His  thoughts  come  to  us  in  the  abstract  and 
spiritual  form,  though  he  often  finds  the  happiest 
comparisons.  For  instance,  he  asked  the  fowlers, 
busy  with  snares,  if  they  caught,  the  young  birds. 
"  No,"  said  they,  "  not  while  the  old  birds  are  with 
them.  If  these  were  away,  we  could  easily  catch 
the  young."  "  True,"  responded  Confucius,  "  it  is 
so  with  all :  take  away  the  wisdom  of  ages,  and  we 
are  easily  ensnared." 


CONFUCIUS.  25 

Though,  like  Socrates,  Confucius  soared  into  the 
pure  empyrean  of  moral  science,  he  was  not  without 
his  speculations  on  the  material  universe.  He  grap 
pled  somewhat  with  the  same  difficulties  as  did  the 
intellectual  Greek,  on  the  origin  of  matter.  To  him 
nothing  was  nothing ;  and  as  something  never  springs 
from  nothing,  he  asserted  the  eternity  of  material 
substance.  He  contemplated  the  universe  as  one 
animated  system,  composed  of  one  matter  and  one 
spiritual  being,  of  which  each  thing  is  an  emanation, 
and  to  which  every  living  thing  returns,  when  sepa 
rated  by  death  from  its  particular  material  part. 
Thus,  the  tree  and  flower  are  emanations ;  and 
there  is  that  in  each  which  lives  on,  which  returns  to 
the  emanating  cause,  after  dissolution  occurs.  Zoro 
aster  said  that  fire  was  the  best  emblem  of  the 
Divinity  ;  but  Confucius  represented  Tien  under  no 
distinct  image.  His  was  the  purely  spiritual  concep 
tion  ;  the  sun,  moon,  and  stars,  being  but  agencies. 
"When  Li-la-kiun  asserted  the  multiplicity  of  gods, 
Confucius  opposed  and  arrested  the  tide  of  idolatry 
which  began  to  overflow. 

What  most  strikes  us  in  Confucius  is  the  harmony 
of  all  his  powers.  He  speaks  like  a  man  of  well- 
balanced  faculties.  His  strength  did  not  grow  up 
into  one  idea  or  one  virtue.  He  would  have  the 
character  well  poised,  like  the  stars  in  space.  He 
was  himself  celebrated  for  his  equanimity  under 
every  reverse  of  fortune.  He  was  passionately  fond 
of  music.  Hoanhee,  the  military  chieftain,  violently 
attacked  his  person ;  but  his  serenity  was  not  dis 
turbed.  As  an  illustration  of  the  mental  harmony 


26  CONFUCIUS. 

we  have  ascribed  to  him,  we  may  adduce  his  view 
of  the  "  constant  medium,"  or  just  mean,  to  which 
he  said  the  sage  should  ever  aspire.  By  this  he 
meant  the  avoidance  of  extremes,  of  the  too  much 
and  the  too  little,  in  every  direction,  as  the  way  to 
gain  the  proportion  essential  to  perfection.  We  will 
quote  a  paragraph  of  the  Tchong-yong. 

"  Whilst  the  passions,  quiet  and  composed,  restrain  life 
under  the  sway  of  reason,  the  whole  mind  is  in  a  calm 
profound ;  and  this  calmness  is  called  the  constant  medium. 
If  their  excitement  and  their  sallies  attract  him  not  beyond 
bounds,  this  new  state  is  called  harmony.  The  constant 
medium  is  as  the  foundation  and  the  support  of  this  vast 
universe.  Harmony  is  the  grand  rule  and  true  bond. 
From  the  perfection  of  these  two  descend,  as  from  their 
source,  the  repose  of  the  world  and  the  life  of  being." 
Again  :  —  "  The  sage  keeps  a  just  mean  in  all  things. 
The  insensible  remove  it."  "  Oh!  this  constant  medium  is 
grand  and  sublime  ;  but  how  few  are  able  to  keep  it  for  a 
long  time ! " 

Art,  labor,  and  courage,  are  constantly  required. 
Thus  discoursed  Confucius  on  the  just  mean,  com 
paring  its  tranquillity  to  the  tops  of  lofty  mountains, 
above  the  lightning's  gleam  and  the  tempest's  rage. 

The  saints  more  than  the  sages  of  Confucius  are 
remarkable  men ;  for  they  have  not  departed  from 
the  right  reason  and  innocence  that  Tien  gave  to  all 
mankind.  His  are  the  saints  of  reason,  who  have 
never  forsaken  its  light.  Sanctity  is  but  the  com 
pleteness  of  virtue ;  and  sympathy,  according  to  his 
philosophy,  must  never  be  impulsive.  His  sage 
never  sheds  tears  at  the  death  of  friends.  The  philo- 


CONFUCIUS.  27 

sopher  himself  once  wept  when  a  favorite  disciple 
was  taken  away,  for  which  he  afterwards  apologized 
by  saying  that  he  had  forgotten  himself.  Indeed,  the 
Chinese  never  say  that  their  friend  "  has  died,"  but 
that  "  he  has  returned  to  his  family."  Thus  did  the 
teaching  of  Confucius  occasionally  border  on  the 
snows  of  that  frigid  clime  where  dwell  the  Stoic  and 
his  pride. 

Throughout  his  doctrine  there  flows  an  exalted 
view  of  human  nature.  He  was  deeply  conscious 
of  its  worth.  We  do  not  know,  however,  that  he' 
was  in  any  degree  original  in  the  conception  or  ex 
pression  of  this  truth ;  for  in  the  popular  faith  of 
China  this  idea  generally  prevails,  and  there  is  no 
evidence  that  he  first  expressed  it.  Perhaps  the  fol 
lowing,  from  the  Chinese  "  Classical  Books,"  fairly 
embodies  the  general  idea  on  this  topic :  —  "  All 
things  are  contained  complete  within  ourselves. 
There  is  no  greater  joy  than  to  turn  round  upon 
ourselves,  and  become  perfect."  Confucius  recog 
nizes  the  moral  wealth  of  humanity  in  all  his  appeals 
to  the  moral  law  which  Heaven  has  engraved  on  the 
human  heart.  The  one  expression  in  the  Lun-yu, 
"  Man  is  born  right,"  clearly  reveals  his  exalted 
opinion  of  human  nature  ;  and  the  fact,  that  the  vir 
tues  he  describes  are  not  a  foreign,  but  a  natural 
growth  of  what  all  souls  contain,  looks  plainly  in  the 
same  direction.  The  language  ascribed  to  him  in 
the  "  Ancient  Fragments  "  is,  —  "  The  natural  light 
is  only  a  perpetual  conformity  of  our  soul  with  the 
laws  of  Heaven.  Men  can  never  lose  this  light. 
It  is  true,  that,  the  heart  of  man  being  inconstant 


28  CONFUCIUS. 

and  wavering,  it  is  sometimes  covered  over  with 
so  many  clouds,  that  the  light  seems  wholly  ex 
tinguished."  But  he  denies  that  it  is  in  reality  ever 
wholly  quenched. 

Confucius  condemned  men  of  many  words  and 
much  profession.  "  Who  is  a  superior  man  ? "  asked 
Tse-kung.  Confucius  answered,  "He  who  first 
practises  his  words,  and  then  speaks  accordingly." 
The  world  is  slow  to  learn,  that  there  is  a  divine 
silence,  as  well  as  a  divine  speech.  Confucius  saw 
that  Tien  spoke  through  silence  a  diviner  wisdom 
than  words  express.  He  said,  — 

"  Silence  is  absolutely  necessary  to  the  wise  man 
Great  speeches,  elaborate  discourses,  pieces  of  eloquence, 
ought  to  be  a  language  unknown  to  him  ;  his  actions 
ought  to  be  his  language.  As  for  me,  I  would  never  speak 
more.  Heaven  speaks  ;  but  what  language  does  it  use  to 
preach  to  men  ?'  That  there  is  a  sovereign  principle  from 
which  all  things  proceed ;  a  sovereign  principle  which 
makes  them  to  act  and  move.  Its  motion  is  its  language  ; 
it  reduces  the  seasons  to  their  time,  —  it  agitates  nature5 
—  it  makes  it  produce.  This  silence  is  eloquent." 

His  sage  is  an  eloquent  speaker  only  when  his 
oration  is  composed  of  eloquent  deeds. 

The  immortality  of  the  Milesian  wise  man  was 
well  vested  in  the  deathless  saying,  "  Know  thyself, 'r 
since  self-knowledge  is  father  to  self-government. 
But  a  greater  than  Thales  speaks  in  the  Confucian 
precept,  "  Conquer  thyself;  "  for  self-conquest  is  the 
end,  and  self-knowledge  the  means.  "  To  conquer 
thyself  is  only  to  do  what  is  agreeable  to  reason," 


CONFUCIUS.  £d 

Many  are  the  roads  that  lead  to  virtue,  all  of  which 
the  wise  should  know.  This  proves  that  the  philo 
sopher  had  no  one  exclusive  mould  in  which  to  run 
the  good  man. 

As  lying  at  the  bottom  of  all  soundness,  sincerity 
occupies  a  prominent  place  in  his  teaching.  What 
else  can  give  naturalness,  force,  and  efficiency  to 
character  ?  Sincerity,  the  simplest  of  all  the  virtues, 
is  the  rock  of  every  heroic  structure,  the  spring  and 
fountain  of  all  that  is  sublime  or  beautiful  in  hu 
man  history.  Much  does  this  Confucius  discourse 
upon  it. 

"  Sincerity  is  to  perfect  one's  self.  Taon  (reason)  is 
what  men  ought  to  practise.  Sincerity  is  the  origin  and 
consummation  of  things.  Without  sincerity  there  would 
be  nothing.  Hence  the  superior  man  considers  sincerity 
of  much  importance." 

<:--r  gflol^i  cn-rf 

Sounding  brass  and  tinkling  cymbal  are  we  all 
without  it.  But  this  virtue,  according  to  the  sage, 
may  be  inherent,  and  intelligence  may  lead  to  it. 

"  From  inherent  sincerity,  to  have  perfect  intelligence 
is  to  be  a  sage  by  nature ;  to  attain  sincerity  by  means 
of  intelligence  is  to  be  such  by  study.  Where  there  is 
sincerity,  there  must  be  intelligence ;  where  intelligence 
is,  it  must  lead  to  sincerity." 

This  also  creates  the  discriminating  sage,  gives 
him  self-reliance,  and  enables  him  to  carry  Paradise 
in  his  bosom. 

"  It  is  only  he  who  possesses  the  highest  sincerity 
nnder  heaven  who  is  capable  of  discriminating  and  fixing 
3* 


30  CONFUCIUS. 

what  are  the  proper  duties  belonging  to  each  of  the  human 
relations,  who  can  establish  the  great  foundation  of  the 
empire,  and  who  comprehends  the  manner  in  which  heaven 
and  earth  produce  and  nourish.  Who  should  such  a  man 
rely  upon  ?  How  ardent  his  benevolence  !  How  vast 
his  heaven ! " 

Confucius  has  perhaps  too  elaborately  described 
virtue,  which,  in  his  teaching,  is  a  strong,  deep,  and 
beautiful  power,  through  which  the  sage  and  saint 
rise  superior  to  pleasure  and  sorrow.  Nothing 
troubles  his  man  of  virtue.  And  why  ?  "  Because," 
says  he,  "  he  practises  not  virtue  for  a  reward.  The 
practice  of  virtue  is  the  sole  reward  he  expects." 
Confucius  made  no  merchandise  of  righteousness ; 
and  in  the  free,  spontaneous  character  he  would 
give  to  its  practice,  is  he  not  centuries  in  advance  of 
some  Christian  writers,  and  certainly  far  beyond 
Paley,  who  reckons  up  the  losses  and  gains,  some 
what  as  a  grocer  does  his  bill,  giving  the  balance  to 
good  actions,  which,  he  thinks,  should  be  done  "  for 
the  sake  of  everlasting  happiness  "  ? 

"  I  have  never  seen  any  one  who  loves  virtue  as 
we  love  beauty,"  said  this  sage.  Beauty  charms  all 
eyes.  His  disciple  asked  him  to  define  the  man  of 
virtue.  "  He  has,"  replied  he,  "  neither  sorrow  nor 
fear."  "  Does  that  alone  constitute  the  character  ?  " 
continued  the  learner.  "  If  a  man  searches  within, 
and  finds  nothing  wrong,  need  he  have  either  sorrow 
or  fear  ?  "  was  the  reply.  The  tree  of  virtue,  in  his 
view,  can  flourish  only  by  taking  deep  root  in  the 
human  heart.  It  must  be  cherished  by  the  affections, 
and  cultivated  by  practice.  "It  is  not  enough  to 


CONFUCIUS.  OA 

know  virtue,  it  is  necessary  to  love  it ;  but  it  is  not 
sufficient  to  love  it,  it  is  necessary  to  possess  it." 
But  the  road  to  virtue  he  pronounced  long,  in  which 
the  traveller  must  advance  step  by  step,  until  he 
arrives  at  the  end.  Confucius  said,  "  If  any  one 
firmly  applies  his  mind  to  virtue,  he  does  nothing 
that  is  low,  or  contrary  to  reason."  "  Virtue  is  not 
solitary,  nor  the  likeness  of  the  desert ;  usually  it  has 
neighbors,  worshippers,  and  followers." 

"What  is  valor?"  demanded  Tzelou  of  Confucius, 
"  Among  the  people  of  the  South, "  answered  the  sage, 
"  it  consists  in  winning  the  affections  to  virtue  through 
beneficence  and  persuasion,  and  in  disgusting  them  with 
vice  through  patience  and  gentleness.  This  is  the  valor 
of  philosophers.  The  people  of  the  North  place  it  in 
sleep,  clothing,  the  bow  and  the  lance,  and  in  meeting 
danger  and  death  undaunted.  This  is  the  valor  of  heroes. 
To  adhere  to  complaisance,  and  never  to  carry  this  to  the 
extreme  of  weakness,  —  to  preserve  himself  upright  in  the 
company  of  the  various  persons  walking  at  random,  and 
never  to  yield  to  any  misfortune,  —  to  cultivate  virtue, — 
to  die  rather  than  violate  his  duty,  —  this  is  the  true  force, 
the  valor  to  which  the  sage  aspires." 

There  has  not  been  unfolded  by  nineteen  centuries 
of  Christian  progress  a  worthier  conception  of  the 
highest  form  of  power  and  valor  possible  to  man. 

Friendship,  in  the  view  of  Confucius,  is  a  flower 
to  be  cultivated.  But  if  the  sage  familiarly  associ 
ates  with  the  mass  of  the  people,  they  will  heap 
indignities  upon  him.  He  points  out  three  danger 
ous  friends,  the  hypocritical,  the  flattering,  and  the 
loquacious ;  and,  in  the  limitations  he  assigned,  he 


32  CONFUCIUS. 

said,  "  Never  contract  friendship  with  a  man  who  is 
not  better  than  thyself."  Strictly  construed,  would 
not  this  rule  preclude  all  friendship  ?  The  same 
principle  that  binds  the  seeker  to  find  his  superior 
would  cause  the  superior  to  refuse  his  overture.  Or 
did  the  moralist  simply  mean,  that  each  party  con 
tracting  friendship  should  think  the  other  better  than 
himself  ?  He  instructs  his  sage  to  hate  several  kinds 
of  persons,  and  especially  those  who  delight  to  dis 
course  on  Jhe  faults  of  others.  But  of  his  mild 
philosophy  revenge  forms  no  part.  He  taught  men 
never  to  revenge  injuries,  and  never  to  desire  the 
death  of  an  enemy;  though  perhaps,  through  the 
strong  reverence  for  the  parental  relation  so  com 
mon  in  China,  he  admitted  an  exception  to  this  mild 
interdiction,  when  he  told  the  young  man  not  to 
live  under  the  same  heaven  with  him  who  had  slain 
his  father. 

Reverence  to  superiors  is  one  of  the  distinguishing 
traits  of  the  Confucian  morality.  In  a  Chinese  great 
man,  we  should  naturally  anticipate  the  prominence 
of  this  view.  But  Confucius  introduces  important 
qualifications.  The  subject  should  become  a  volun 
tary  exile,  sooner  than  live  under  the  corrupting  ex 
ample  of  a  wicked  prince ;  and  sons  should  acquaint 
parents  with  their  faults,  though  it  bring  down  their 
displeasure.  He  distinguishes  three  things  which  the 
wise  man  ought  to  reverence,  namely,  "  The  laws  of 
Heaven,  great  men,  and  the  words  of  good  men." 
To  these  objects  of  reverence  the  race  must  bow; 
for  what  more  naturally  challenges  general  ho 
mage  ?  . 


CONFUCIUS.  dO 

Love  is  an  eminent  characteristic  of  the  great 
man.  It  widens  with  his  thought,  and  partakes  of 
its  universality  and  exaltation.  Confucius  speaks 
of  love,  even  the  universal  love.  Justice,  in  his 
view,  proceeds  from  it.  "  The  love  of  the  perfect 
man  is  a  universal  love,  whose  object  is  all  man 
kind."  He  dealt  in  nothing  foreign  to  the  soul. 
The  Jove  becoming  all  men,  he  said,  is  no  stranger 
to  man  ^  nay,  it  is  man  himself.  The  Swedish  mys 
tic  uttered  no  falsehood  when  he  said,  "  Love  is  the 
life  of  man  ; "  for  always  as  any  man's  love  is,  so 
are  'his  conduct  and  his  character.  The  whole  intel 
lect  of  every  man  obeys  his  love.  Thought  ever 
goes  at  its  bidding.  Even  our  dreams  are  not  out 
of  its  sway.  He  who  keeps  a  pure  love  has  nothing 
to  fear.  Every  thing  else  is  of  necessity  right. 
Confucius  said,  that  it  is  the  good  man  alone  who 
is  able  either  to  love  or  to  hate  with  reason.  "  He 
who  persecutes  a  good  man,"  said  he,  "  makes  war 
against  Heaven."  The  good  man  is  one  with  Tien : 
if  you  persecute  the  former,  you  take  up  arms 
against  the  latter.  In  the  mirror  of  this  idea,  may 
not  the  bigotry  of  Christendom  behold  its  image  ? 

Patriotism,  which,  to  say  the  least,  is  a  natural 
feeling,  since  every  man  is  formed  more  by  his  par 
ticular  country  than  by  the  whole  world,  is  sanctioned 
by  Confucius.  He  told  his  disciples  freely  to  expose 
themselves,  when  their  country's  safety  demanded. 

We  find  in  the  writings  of  Confucius  the  golden 
rule  in  two  forms,  the  negative  and  the  positive.  In 
the  Tchong-yong  it  occurs  in  the  negative  form. 
Men  are  there  encouraged  to  approximate  to  wis- 


34  CONFUCIUS. 

dom ;  and  its  first  lesson  is  thus  announced :  —  "  Do 
not  to  any  one  that  which  you  do  not  wish  should  be 
done  to  you."  This  proves  that  the  positive  law  had 
been  discovered,  out  of  which  the  negative  precept 
sprang.  It  is  also  said  by  some  authors  of  good  re 
pute,  that  the  great  precept  is  positively  announced, 
"  Do  unto  others  as  ye  would  that  they  should  do 
unto  you."  This  sunbeam,  which  darted  from  the 
moral  nature  of  man  nearly  twenty-four  centuries 
ago,  is  the  brightest  ray  of  human  duty.  It  is  won 
derfully  simple,  though  it  partakes  of  the  greatness 
of  a  universal  law.  The  Divine  Teacher  of  Judea 
gave  out  the  same  thought,  as  the  great  law  of  social 
justice,  as  the  end  and  substance  of  the  LaAV  and  the 
Prophets. 

We  would  not  present  Confucius  as  a  faultless 
philosopher.  This  moment  our  eye  rests  on  a  pas 
sage  to  us  untrue.  The  sage  who  has  faults  that 
will  be  noticed,  he  instructs  to  "  cover  himself  as 
with  a  cloud."  But  true  virtue  acts  nobly  from  its 
own  impulses;  all  excellence  holds  a  measure  of 
spontaneity  in  it.  Yet  the  teaching  of  Confucius 
constantly  tends  to  make  men  better  ;  and,  if  his 
mission  may  be  summed  up  in  a  few  words,  it  was 
to  teach  mankind  the  useful  science  of  being  good. 
He  relied  on  no  mystic  words  or  acts,  but  taught 
plainly,  that,  if  men  would  learn  to  die  well,  they 
must  first  learn  to  live  well. 

As  personal  form,  properly  understood,  is  the 
biography  and  image  of  indwelling  mind,  we  would 
know  the  personal  appearance  of  this  wonderful 
man.  His  figure  had  fine  proportions.  He  was  tall 


CONFUCIUS.  35 

and  stately.  His  eyes  were  large  and  well  formed. 
His  countenance  had  an  olive  complexion,  with 
beard  long  and  black.  His  chest  was  broad,  indi 
cating  the  power  of  the  arterial  system,  and  his  voice 
had  force  and  sharpness.  The  extraordinary  projec 
tion  of  his  forehead  caused  his  father,  in  sport,  to  call 
him,  when  young,  Kieoo,  or  "  the  little  hill."  This 
potent  organism,  sustained  through  a  long  life  the 
ceaseless  action  of  his  gigantic  mind.  His  disciples 
testify  that  he  was  in  manners  mild,  affable,  and 
bland,  and  at  the  same  time  venerable  and  composed. 
He  w-as  regardful  of  others,  kind,  and  reverent. 
When  he  reasoned  and  reproved,  he  was  grave  and 
severe. 

We  have  alluded  to  his  last  days  as  being  full  of 
sorrow  on  account  of  his  hopeless  country.  "  The 
mountain  is  fallen,"  exclaimed  the  despairing  philo 
sopher,  "  the  high  machine  is  demolished,  and  all  the 
sages  have  disappeared.  The  kings  refuse  to  follow 
my  maxims ;  and,  since  I  am  no  longer  useful  on 
earth,  it  is  well  that  I  leave  it."  He  then  fell  into  a 
lethargic  state,  which  continued  seven  days,  when 
the  hoary  sage  closed  his  eyes  for  ever  to  a  world 
which  to  him  had  a  sunless  horizon,  so  far  as  its 
reformation  was  concerned. 

Still,  Confucius  is  the  Chinese  great  man,  though 
the  property  of  all.  The  great  veneration  for  the 
past,  the  reverence  for  superiors,  the  calm  spirit, 
the  strong  imitation  and  wonder,  the  peculiar  com 
bination  of  imagination  and  taste,  tending  to  a  re 
dundant  description,  —  these  traits  of  his  race  unite 
in  shedding  their  colors  upon  his  mind.  The  moun- 


36  CONFUCIUS. 

tain  exhibits  the  soil  of  the  surrounding  plain,  and 
more  than  reveals  its  internal  wealth.  The  great 
man,  however  high  above,  ever  represents  the  com 
mon  mass.  That  Confucius  shared  in  his  country 
men's  love  of  the  marvellous,  is  evident  in  this,  that 
a  species  of  divination,  by  which  the  future  might  be 
known,  held  a  place  in  his  confidence,  whilst  he 
sometimes  spoke  of  the  invisible  spirits  surrounding 
us,  and  of  the  protection  they  extend  to  men.  Even 
Socrates  admitted  that  the  gods  gave  signs. 

The  Chinese  hues  of  his  genius  appear,  we  think, 
particularly  in  his  elaborate  delineation  of  virtue, 
and  in  his  frequent  advice  to  imitate  the  wise  and 
the  good. 

Both  the  sage  and  the  saint  of  Confucius  are  por 
trayed  in  a  thousand  beautiful  ways  ;  and  so  perfect 
is  the  finish,  that  they  appear  as  the  polished  speci 
mens  of  fine  art.  They  are  too  nice.  The  perfect 
in  character  needs  no  marks  of  great  elaboration. 
In  a  story  where  the  facts  of  life  are  so  grouped 
together  as  to  present  a  living  goodness  is  the  perfect 
in  character  best  given.  We  prefer  the  simple  para 
ble  of  Jesus  to  the  finely  wrought  picture  of  Confu 
cius.  Perfection,  to  be  such,  should  not  be  conscious 
of  itself.  Shakspeare  was  probably  far  less  con 
scious  of  genius  than  are  the  common  scribblers. 
Perfect  health  is  scarcely  sensible  of  a  stomach,  a 
lung,  or  a  spine.  These  remarks  do  not  refer  to 
Confucius  personally,  for  he  often  disclaimed  the 
praises  bestowed  upon  him.  And,  although  he  says 
that  virtue  in  the  sage  is  so  natural  that  it  appears  to 
be  unnoticed  by  himself,  and  that  his  modesty 


CONFUCIUS.  t>7 

eclipses  his  virtues,  we  are  unable  to  follow  his  nu 
merous  delineations  of  the  wise  and  good,  without 
discovering  on  the  costume  in  which  they  are  arrayed 
a  tinge  of  the  Chinese,  —  that  is  to  say,  too  much  of 
the  artistic. 

He  exhorts  the  aspirant  to  virtue  to  imitate  the 
wise  and  the  good,  though  never  without  discretion. 
He  makes  free  use  of  the  term  "  imitation."  But 
there  is  an  original  genius  in  each  man's  nature, 
worth  infinitely  more  than  imitation  can  bring.  The 
rose  and  the  thorn  take  up  the  vigor  of  the  same 
surrounding  nature,  but  each  in  its  own  way.  It  is 
thus  that  all  life  advances.  Each  thing,  so  to  speak, 
transforms  according  to  its  own  particular  genius. 
No  jot  of  individuality  is  lost.  So  with  each  mind. 
No  good  can  come  but  through  the  transforming 
power  of  its  own  genius  and  life.  It  is  not  the  imita 
tion  of  wise  men  and  good  that  we  want.  We  want 
the  wise  men,  not  their  likenesses.  Jesus  never  told 
one  man  to  imitate  another.  Why  imitate  Chaou, 
Ven  Vam,  Yaou,  and  Ouen-ouang,  when  every 
virtue  they  had  lies  infolded  in  the  breast  of  every 
youth  in  China  ?  Away  with  imitation  !  It  never 
brought  any  man  to  virtue.  These  defects,  how 
ever,  do  not  justify  the  conclusion,  that  Confucius 
was  not  the  great  light  of  heathen  antiquity. 

The  great  and  strong  will  always  be  contrasted 
with  one  another.  Nor  can  we  object  to  this,  since 
character  is  best  known  through  contrast.  Hence 
Confucius  has  been  compared  with  Socrates,  Moses, 
Zoroaster,  Mohammed,  and  Jesus.  But  their  spheres 
were  not  the  same.  He  differs  from  all  the  great 


47977 


38  CONFUCIUS. 

religious  teachers  in  this  respect,  that  he  claimed  no 
inspiration,  attempted  no  miracles,  uttered  no  pro 
phecies,  and  in  fact  taught  no  new  religion.  Zoroas 
ter  occasionally,  as  it  was  believed,  held  converse  with 
the  gods,  and  Mohammed's  beast  bore  him  trium 
phantly,  as  it  was  asserted,  over  many  heavens ;  but 
Confucius  humbly  took  his  stand  on  the  nature  of 
man  and  the  fitness  of  things.  In  his  moral  ideas, 
he  is  environed  with  a  light  that  Mohammed  and 
Zoroaster  do  not  possess.  He  certainly  soared  above 
the  latter  in  this,  that  he  worshipped  the  Deity  under 
no  physical  emblem,  and  did  not,  like  him,  divide 
the  empire  of  the  universe  between  Ormud  and 
Ahriman,  in  order  to  account  for  the  great  conflict 
between  good  and  evil.  To  him,  Tien  was  One, 
justly  and  benevolently  ruling  over  all.  That  as  a 
metaphysician  and  dialectician  he  equalled  the  fine 
acuteness  and  happy  utterance  of  the  Greek  mind,  as 
represented  in  Socrates,  we  presume  will  not  be 
claimed  ;  though  there  is  so  little  known  of  the  real 
genius  of  the  Chinese  language,  that  very  few,  we 
imagine,  would  undertake  to  institute  a  comparison 
between  the  two,  as  mere  dialecticians.  But,  in  the 
peculiar  sphere  of  his  greatness,  which  is  that  of  a 
moral  teacher,  we  opine  that  no  one  will  attempt 
to  bring  forward  his  superior  from  all  the  lights  of 
antiquity  preceding  the  birth  of  Christianity. 

A  new  and  fresh  conception  of  the  unrivalled 
greatness,  a  deeper  conviction  of  the  divine  inspira 
tion  of  Jesus,  springs  up  in  the  mind  that  travels  over 
the  richest  fields  of  thought  occupied  by  the  ancient 
sages.  The  contrast  perpetually  widens.  His  stand 


CONFUCIUS.  39 

was  not  in  the  past.  He  referred  to  the  present, 
living  God  as  the  source  of  his  light,  while  the 
whelming  ages  flowed  under  his  feet.  He  touched 
not  the  state  ;  but  he  touched  the  great  springs  of  life 
in  him  from  whom  the  state,  with  its  glory  and 
shame,  must  ever  flow.  An  empire  was  no  field 
equal  to  his  plan.  The  world  was  his  field.  No 
royal  birth  gave  him  entrance  into  palaces,  nor 
secured  the  patronage  of  the  great.  He  did  not 
begin  with  a  class.  He  began  with  all ;  though  the 
common  people,  being  less  sophisticated,  heard  him 
more  gladly.  He  taught  no  great  homage  to  earthly 
superiors ;  he  taught  rather  a  self-reverence,  that 
refused  to  call  any  man  master.  He  was  gentle  and 
compassionate  to  sinners.  He  advised  no  man  to 
imitate  his  neighbor,  however  good  or  Avise  he  might 
be :  human  individuality  was  not  invaded.  He 
wrote  nothing  to  perpetuate  his  teachings.  Confucius 
had  hundreds  of  learned  men  to  propagate  his  views  ; 
Jesus,  while  living,  had  but  a  few  humble,  unedu 
cated  peasants  around  him,  not  half  understanding 
his  purpose  and  mission.  Confucius  was  learned  ; 
Jesus  by  human  institutions  was  wholy  untaught. 
The  one  was  aided  by  veneration  for  the  past ;  the 
other  was  violently  opposed  and  persecuted  by  it. 
Confucius  unfolded  his  mild  philosophy  among  a 
people  as  peaceful  as  himself ;  Jesus  gave  the  lessons 
of  peace  at  a  time  when  all  hearts  were  burning  for 
revolution,  and  among  a  people  constitutionally  and 
habitually  inclined  to  revenge.  The  one  said,  "  Re 
venge  not  injuries ;  "  the  other  said,  "  Love  your 
enemies." 


40  CONFUCIUS. 

Behold  the  contrast  between  the  personal  faith  of 
these  two  teachers  !  The  one  sorrowed  and  mourned 
the  three  last  years  of  his  life,  because  he  could  not, 
as  he  thought,  be  useful.  We  respect  the  sorrow, 
for  none  but  a  noble  spirit  could  have  had  it.  He 
died  in  this  despair.  The  other,  though  beaten  by 
the  storm  of  human  passion,  though  deeply  moved 
by  the  overwhelming  sense  of  coming  woe,  and 
though  foreseeing  the  certainty  of  a  death  marked 
with  shame  and  violence,  saw  clearly  through  the 
blackness  of  cloud  and  storm  to  the  sun  itself,  and 
felt  himself  glorified  in  its  light,  —  felt  that  the  hour 
was  come.  He  spoke  of  his  death  as  his  glorifica 
tion,  and  always  had  he  cherished  a  deep  conscious 
ness  of  the  certain  victorious  results  of  his  labor  and 
mission.  Confucius  enjoyed  half  a  century  of  years, 
in  which  to  mature  his  wisdom  and  deepen  his  in 
fluence.  The  public  life  of  Jesus  numbered  but 
about  three  years,  —  probably  not  that,  —  and  his 
thought  the  profoundest  have  not  yet  measured, 
the  ages  have  not  yet  compassed.  How  powerfully 
his  words  have  wrought !  All  the  civilizations  and 
reforms  of  the  earth  are  judged  by  them.  HOAV 
mighty  that  pure  life  of  his  !  It  is  still  the  reproof  of 
all  other  lives.  In  the  simple  and  beautiful  majesty 
of  his  mind,  earth's  noblest  sons  are  poor  indeed. 
Yet,  while  we  ascribe  to  Jesus  an  inspiration  and 
authority  to  which  Confucius  laid  no  claim,  it  is 
beautiful  to  see  the  reformer  of  China  evolving  some 
of  the  same  universal  truths  which  the  Saviour  of 
mankind  taught,  and  which,  like  the  ever-tranquil 
stars,  brighten  the  firmament  of  moral  science  and  of 


CONFUCIUS.  41 

human  happiness.  From  all  we  know  of  Confucius, 
we  love  and  revere  him.  We  admire  his  attachment 
to  moral  ideas.  His  life  teaches  the  moral  wealth  of 
human  nature,  not  less  in  our  own  age  than  in  the 
remote  period  to  which  his  name  belongs. 


42 


C  H  A  N  N  I  N  G. 


THIS  man,  it  appears,  belongs  to  the  age  far  more 
than  to  any  party  or  sect.  The  atmosphere  of  uni 
versal  interest  surrounds  him.  In  such  a  name  we 
all  own  property.  There  is  a  profound  reverence 
created  by  the  singular  purity  and  elevation  of  his 
character,  when  living,  to  which  the  differences  of 
opposing  schools  and  parties  seem  to  be  no  consid 
erable  barriers.  He  triumphs  over  the  prejudices  of 
opinion,  whilst  the  settled  conviction  remains  that  in 
some  way  W.  E.  Channing  was  an  extraordinary 
man ;  although  perhaps,  from  the  marked  simplicity 
and  naturalness  of  his  character,  few  may  have 
paused  to  analyze  a  greatness  so  simple  and  so 
familiar.  Indeed,  he  absorbs  the  whole  mind  so  thor 
oughly  in  his  themes  whenever  he  is  approached, 
that  there  is  little  time  to  investigate  the  man. 

We  had  supposed,  that  the  life  of  Channing,  so  far 
as  it  is  needful  for  such  a  life  to  be  known,  was 
sufficiently  embodied  in  his  published  writings.  We 
had  imagined,  that  the  best  possible  biography  of 
such  a  mind  is  the  thought  it  had  given,  and  the 
spirit  it  had  breathed.  And  this  is  true.  But,  hav 
ing  just  arisen  from  the  perusal  of  his  Memoirs  in 
three  volumes,  we  are  prepared  to  say,  that  much 


CHANNING.  43 

new  light  is  shed,  not  only  from,  but  also  upon,  the 
subject  of  this  article.  In  the  facts  here  collected, 
we  learn  more  of  the  different  stages  of  his  con 
sistent  progress,  the  birth  of  some  of  the  new  ideas 
which  held  dominion  over  his  life ;  and,  through  the 
freedom  of  many  incidents  and  utterances,  which 
could  have  held  no  place  in  his  more  elaborate  men 
tal  creations,  we  come  more  freely  into  his  mind  and 
heart.  We  welcome  these  volumes  as  a  good  con 
tribution  to  American  literature  ;  and  particularly 
do  we  value  them  for  the  various  and  ample  manner 
in  which  Dr.  Channing  is  permitted  to  lay  open  his 
own  mind  through  the  many  letters,  conversations, 
and  quotations  they  contain.  So  much  indeed  does 
Channing  himself  speak  from  these  volumes,  that 
they  are  almost  an  autobiography. 

The  worth  of  such  a  life  is  various.  We  share 
the  character  of  the  objects  we  habitually  behold. 
And,  though  the  immensity  and  beauty  of  the  natural 
world  impress  us  in  a  manner  that  favors  the  high 
and  generous  aspiration,  there  is  no  object  so  elevat 
ing  and  so  inspiring  as  the  character  of  a  truly  good 
and  great  man.  He  touches  all  our  inward  springs. 
He  penetrates,  enlightens,  reproves,  and  encourages 
us.  A  high  and  pure  life  carries  us  upward.  It  is 
the  beautiful  solution  of  the  problem  of  faith.  There 
is  great  worth  in  its  reproof;  still  more  in  the  en 
couragement  it  ministers.  For  such  reasons,  the 
life  of  Channing  should  be  studied ;  for  it  was  most 
sincerely,  faithfully,  and,  we  may  add,  successfully 
devoted  to  truth  and  goodness.  We  would  be  blessed 
not  only  by  the  purifying  influence  of  such  a  life, 


44  CHANNING. 

but  we  would  seek  expansion  in  its  ever-widening 
spirit.  As  the  greatness  of  Channing  is  silent,  and 
of  the  spirit  wholly,  it  is  only  in  our  tranquil  moods 
that  Ave  realize  him.  Noise  never  follows  the  name 
of  Washington,  because  it  lies  too  deep  in  the  calm 
fountain  of  reverence.  Neither  can  we  know  Chan 
ning  through  any  worldly  views  of  greatness.  It 
is  only  through  the  serene  depths  of  conscience, 
thought,  and  love,  that  we  know  and  enjoy  a  mind 
like  his. 

The  religion,  ethics,  literature,  and  social  reform 
of  the  age  have  each  received  the  impress  of  his 
mind.  As  man  was  his  great  theme,  his  traces  are 
left  on  all  the  great  questions  of  human  interest. 
Hence  that  breadth  of  thought  and  influence  which 
almost  forbids  us  to  think  of  Channing  as  a  profes 
sional  character.  As  we  walk  over  the  green  fields 
of  truth  through  which  he  leads  the  way,  we  listen 
to  the  theologian,  the  Literary  man,  the  moral  philo 
sopher,  and  the  philanthropist.  He  becomes  as  wide 
as  human  duty,  suffering,  virtue,  and  hope.  But  in 
every  mind  there  is  a  central  truth  balancing  the 
rest ;  as,  in  each  solar  system  in  the  boundless  space, 
there  is  a  supreme  and  governing  orb.  There  is  a 
centre  of  attraction  to  all  minds,  as  truly  as  to  all 
globes ;  and  the  predominating  element  in  the  char 
acter  of  Channing  no  one  can  fail  to  see.  It  is  as 
the  sun. 

Supreme  over  all  his  other  tendencies  is  the  moral. 
He  perpetually  saw  the  moral  expression  of  things, 
and  always  regarded  the  conscience  as  the  central 
poAver  of  the  soul,  around  which  the  whole  life 


CHANNING.  45 

should  revolve.  Human  nature,  he  could  never 
view  from  its  outward  conditions  chiefly,  but  from 
its  spiritual  powers,  its  moral  wealth.  In  man  he 
saw  the  end  of  being,  which  is  the  perfection  of  all  his 
spiritual  powers.  Nature,  he  said,  in  its  boundless 
ministries,  is  ahvays  the  servant  of  this.  The  state, 
the  law,  the  schools,  the  church,  —  all  nature  and  all 
providence,  to  his  eye,  were  but  means  to  this  end, 
and  valueless  without  it.  This  predominance  of  the 
ethical  in  simplicity  and  majesty  is  the  sublime  and 
beautifying  fact  of  Channing's  character  and  influ 
ences. 

And  is  it  not  true,  that  a  character  thus  combined 
is  most  in  harmony  with  the  universe  and  with  God  ? 
For,  in  the  enlightened  conception  of  the  Deity,  the 
idea  that  prevails  over  all  others  is  that  of  his  perfect 
goodness,  to  which  the  whole  infinitude  of  divine 
means  but  constantly  ministers.  "Wisdom  and  power 
obey  its  dictates,  and  for  ever  seek  to  fulfil  its  ends. 
And,  if  this  is  true  of  God,  the  universe,  properly 
interpreted,  must  reveal  the  same  truth  ;  for,  pro 
ceeding  from  him  in  the  order  of  creation,  it  neces 
sarily  bears  the  impress  of  his  mind.  Such  also,  and 
for  the  same  reason,  must  be  true  of  the  constitu 
tional  nature  of  man,  and  will  brightly  appear  in  the 
same  proportion  as  perfection  of  character  is  ac 
quired.  He  therefore  in  whom  this  idea  prevails, 
stands  in  most  perfect  harmony  with  the  universe 
and  its  Creator,  and  is  best  fitted,  with  suitable  gifts 
of  intellect,  to  receive  the  highest  influx  of  truth ; 
nor  can  any  one,  however  gifted  with  talents  and 
genius,  take  the  highest  and  the  best  views  of  man, 


46  CHANNING. 

life,  nature,  and  God,  in  whom  the  idea  of  goodness 
is  not  first.  It  is  possible,  however,  in  the  fulness  of 
idealism,  for  this  element  to  exist  out  of  due  harmony 
with  the  rest,  —  to  be  made  too  isolated  and  imperfect 
for  realization. 

As  man  was  the  end  of  the  universe  in  the  sacred 
philosophy  of  Channing,  so  he  became  the  end  of  all 
his  labors ;  reformation  and  progress  being  his  great 
and  earnest  themes.  The  soul  was  his  great  idea, 
his  constant  hope.  We  have  alluded  to  the  idea  of 
Right,  as  being  the  great  light  in  the  heavens  of  our 
higher  powers ;  but  the  whole  soul  was  to  him  equally 
precious  and  dear,  to  which  he  looked  as  the  ulterior 
fact,  through  all  causes  and  systems  that  came  before 
him.  The  dignity  of  human  nature  was  always  well 
sustained  in  his  discourse  ;  whilst  his  faith  in  the  ca 
pacity  and  wealth  of  humanity  gained  strength  even 
from  the  very  sources  which  to  most  persons  are  a 
gloomy  discouragement,  —  the  errors  and  sins  by 
which  they  are  darkened  and  obscured ;  for  a  being 
who  could  err  so  widely,  who  could  violate  such 
high  and  perfect  laws,  and  be  conscious  of  the  con 
demning  voice  of  Right,  proves  the  alliance  of  his 
nature  with  that  from  which  he  strays.  Great  ruins 
imply  a  great  grandeur.  To  one  so  deeply  con 
vinced  of  the  worth  and  power  of  human  capacity, 
the  lustre  of  the  gem  would  appear  in  a  thousand 
facts  and  incidents  of  life,  which,  to  other  observers, 
might  speak  nothing  of  the  soul's  greatness.  The 
vast  range'  of  nature  and  providence  pay  tribute  to 
this  view.  All  things  seem  to  address  the  soul,  to  pay 
it  homage,  by  so  affecting  it  as  to  invigorate  its  reason 


CHANNING.  47 

by  various  truth,  order,  and  law ;  by  speaking  of 
endless  beauty,  by  impressing  on  it  the  image  of  all 
material  magnificence,  and  by  the  many  spiritual 
suggestions  that  the  ministries  of  the  natural  world 

oo 

constantly  yield.  All  life,  too,  its  sorrows  and  suc 
cesses,  its  aspirations,  and  its  fears,  —  all  imply  the 
same  homage  to  his  superiority ;  for  all  aim  at  his 
good.  Is  there  not  something  great  in  a  being  into 
whose  education  all  things  enter,  for  whom  such  a 
vast  and  complicated  system  constantly  operates  ? 

Nor  was  this  view  a  speculation  of  philosophy  to 
him,  but  was  really  his  hope  in  the  darkest  hour  of 
social  evils.  It  fed  his  philanthropy,  his  love  of  lib 
erty,  his  reverential  manners  to  others ;  it  supported 
his  practical  charity,  his  zeal  for  popular  education 
and  improvement,  and  strengthened  every  tie  that 
bound  him  to  the  human  race.  Indeed,  what  less 
can  such  faith  in  real  action  accomplish  ?  In  all 
effort  at  human  emancipation  from  evil,  lies  the  idea 
of  human  worth,  Avhich  animates  and  inspires  the 
action ;  which  taken  away,  all  noble  enthusiasm  is 
palsied,  and  all  generous  effort  disappears.  But, 
with  this  remaining,  through  a  few  means,  wonders 
may  be  done. 

Dr.  Channing  has  been  accused  of  exalting  human 
nature  too  much,  of  almost  deifying  its  powers. 
That  his  idea  is  higher  than  the  nature  will  warrant, 
many,  and  perhaps  some  of  his  warm  admirers,  may 
affirm.  This  is  the  great  charge,  and  should  there 
fore  receive  the  first  notice.  We  are  aware  that 
this  is  a  subject  quite  liable  to  confusion  of  thoughts; 
for  most  persons  will  set  doAvn  what  one  may  say  of 


48  CHANNING. 

human  nature  to  the  account  of  human  character  or 
to  both,  without  a  very  discriminating  distinction 
between  the  two.  Bad  culture  will  be  brought  for 
ward  in  proof  of  the  sad  quality  of  the  soil.  But  this 
is  only  one  source  of  unhappy  judgments.  The 
disposition  to  judge  of  human  nature  from  its  par 
tial  and  lower  manifestations,  as  if  these  were  all, 
builds  up  an  erroneous  decision.  A  ivhole,  in  such 
a  various  nature  as  ours,  can  never  be  judged  of  by 
a  part ;  and  especially  is  it  perilous  so  to  judge,  when 
that  part  is  perverted  from  its  natural  and  rightful 
loyalty  to  the  higher  powers.  There  should  be  a 
clear  penetration  of  the  whole  soul,  a  sounding  of 
its  mysterious  depths,  a  knowledge  of  all  its  great 
moral  aspirations  and  conflicts,  which  indeed  it  is 
very  difficult  to  possess.  Man  is  not  as  a  tree,  the 
whole  of  whose  fruit  may  be  known  in  the  taste  of 
a  single  production.  But,  without  pausing  to  argue 
the  question  of  human  nature,  we  would  place  the 
charge  brought  against  Dr.  Channing  on  this  ground. 
His  idea  is  greater,  it  is  alleged,  than  the  nature  will 
warrant.  But  whence  came  his  idea  of  this  superior 
excellence  ?  Did  it  not  proceed  from  his  own  mind  ? 
This  will  at  once  be  granted.  Then  his  nature  was 
equal  to  the  idea,  or  it  could  not  have  proceeded  from 
it.  No  stream  is  greater  than  its  fountain.  If  his 
nature  was  not  unequal  to  the  idea,  neither  is  ours ; 
for  all  are  equally  human.  Moreover,  when  we 
condemn  this  lofty  ideal,  we  do  so  on  the  ground  that 
we  understand  it,  that  we  realize  its  grandeur  as 
being  too  great  for  what  we  see.  Now  that  we 
realize  even  this  idea,  so  far  as  to  feel  the  vast  dis- 


CHANNING.  49 

parity  between  it  and  what  we  discover  in  human 
attainment,  proves  that  there  is  nothing  in  it  but  that 
which  finds  an  equal  and  a  judge  in  the  soul  itself. 
We  hold  that  error  can  be  condemned  only  on  the 
ground,  that  a  standard  of  truth  exists  in  the  mind 
by  which  it  is  condemned  ;  and  that  degradation  can 
be  affirmed  only  through  the  presence  within,  of  a 
standard  of  elevation  to  which  the  mind  of  him  who 
judges  is  competent.  Is  the  soul  less  than  the  stan 
dard  it  comprehends  ?  Impossible.  It  seems  to  us, 
that,  if  all  who  discuss  this  subject  would  pause  to 
consider  that  the  nobler  self  from  which  they  judge 
is  as  much  and  as  truly  included  in  the  idea  of 
human  nature  as  are  the  passions  by  whose  per 
verted  action  they  are  shocked,  and  would  they 
distinguish  between  what  is  said  on  the  possibilities 
of  the  soul  and  what  is  attained  through  a  partial  and 
negligent  practice,  much  dispute  and  difference  might 
be  avoided. 

But  let  us,  before  we  condemn,  hear  the  view  we 
examine  as  set  forth  in  the  author's  words  :  — 

"  One  of  the  great  characteristics  of  the  present  day  is 
a  lowness,  a  sordidness,  a  frigidness  of  thought  and  feel 
ing.  Men  think  meanly  of  their  nature,  and  hence  their 
conduct  is  selfish  and  earthly.  We  do  not,  indeed,  see 
men  in  general  given  up  to  gross  vices.  We  do  not  meet 
around  us  the  ferocity  or  beastly  licentiousness  of  the 
savage  state.  We  find  many  marks  of  improvement, 
when  we  compare  the  present  with  earlier  ages.  But 
there  is  little  elevation  of  sentiment.  Comparatively  few 
seem  to  be  conscious  of  their  original,  their  capacities  of 
excellence,  their  relation  to  God,  their  interest  in  eternity. 
6 


50  CHANNING. 

"  Blessed  be  God,  in  the  history  of  every  age  and 
nation,  amidst  the  ravages  of  ambition  and  the  mean  aims 
of  selfishness,  there  have  broken  forth  nobler  sentiments, 
and  the  evidences  of  a  heavenly  virtue.  Every  age  has 
been  illustrated  by  men  who  bore  themselves  like  men, 
and  vindicated  the  cause  of  human  nature  ;  —  men  who, 
in  circumstances  of  great  trial,  have  adhered  to  moral  and 
religious  principle,  to  the  cause  of  persecuted  truth,  to 
the  interests  of  humanity,  to  the  hope  of  immortality ;  — 
who  have  trodden  under  foot  the  fairest  gifts  of  fortune 
and  the  world,  in  the  pursuit  of  duty.  It  has  often 
pleased  God  to  gather  around  these  men  the  clouds  of 
adversity,  that  their  virtues  might  shine  with  a  sublimer 
splendor.  This  is  the  greatest  value  of  history,  that  it 
introduces  us  to  persons  of  this  illustrious  order ;  and  its 
noblest  use  is,  by  their  examples,  to  nourish  in  us  a  con 
viction,  that  elevated  purity  of  motive  and  conduct  is  not 
a  dream  of  fancy,  but  that  it  is  placed  within  our  reach,  and 
is  the  very  end  of  being."  —  Memoirs,  vol.  ii.  pp.  28,  29. 

Open  his  pages  where  you  will,  your  eye  rests  on 
some  expression  of  this  sentiment.  But  to  give  the 
reader  a  more  various  representation  of  this  leading 
view,  in  unison  with  the  practical  results  with  which 
it  stands  connected,  we  offer  the  following  para 
graphs  :  — 

"  All  our  inquiries  in  morals,  religion,  politics,  must 
begin  with  human  nature.  The  ends  for  which  a  being 
is  made,  his  relations,  his  true  course  of  conduct,  depend 
upon  his  nature.  To  comprehend  the  former,  we  must 
understand  the  latter.  Accordingly,  certain  views  of 
man  are  involved  in  all  speculations  about  the  objects 
of  life,  and  the  proper  sphere  of  human  action.  On  such 


CHANNING.  Ol 

views  all  schemes  of  society  and  legislation  are  built. 
Every  great  statesman,  every  reformer  who  has  introduced 
a  revolution  in  the  affairs  of  nations,  has  been  impelled 
and  guided  by  his  estimate  of  man.  It  is  the  want  of  a 
true  science  of  our  nature  that  has  vitiated  all  past  sys 
tems  of  government,  morals,  and  religion.  No  book  can 
be  written  wisely,  no  plan  wisely  formed  for  the  improve 
ment  of  mankind,  which  has  not  its  origin  in  just  rever 
ence  of  the  powers  of  the  human  spirit.  And  not  only  is 
it  true  that  morals,  religion,  and  politics,  in  their  applica 
tion  to  masses  of  men,  must  have  their  foundation  in 
certain  views  of  human  nature ;  but  every  individual's 
principles,  his  whole  system  of  duty,  will  take  its  charac 
ter  from  the  light  in  which  he  regards  himself  and  his 
race.  All  the  relations  of  life  will  wear  different  aspects 
to  men  who  interpret  differently  the  beings  by  whom  they 
are  sustained. 

"  Just  views  of  human  nature  are,  then,  all-important. 
In  comprehending  man,  we  comprehend  God,  Duty,  Life, 
Death,  Providence ;  we  have  the  key  to  the  divine  admin 
istration  of  the  world.  In  proportion  as  man  is  made 
known  to  us,  we  learn  why  he  was  placed  upon  earth, 
and  see  the  explanation  of  the  discipline  which  is  appointed 
him  here.  The  mysteries  of  his  childhood,  progress,  and 
maturity,  of  his  joys  and  sorrows,  of  his  temptations 
and  sins,  gradually  'clear  away.  Even  material  nature 
becomes  revealed  to  us  in  a  new  light.  In  proportion  as 
we  understand  man,  —  God's  greatest  work,  —  we  under 
stand  inferior  creation ;  we  discover  new  adaptations  of 
the  outward  and  the  inward  worlds,  new  analogies  between 
nature  and  the  human  spirit :  the  unity  of  the  universe 
dawns  upon  us."  —  Memoirs,  vol.  ii.  p.  404. 

"  Exertion  supposes  that  good  may  be  attained,  and 
vigorous  exertion  supposes  that  the  mind  is  kindled  by 


52  CHANNING. 

the  prospect  of  great  attainments.  What  can  you  expect 
from  him  who  sees  nothing  in  the  future  better  than  the 
past  ?  On  the  other  hand,  a  belief  in  the  capacities  and 
dignity  of  humanity,  a  belief  of  its  future  glory,  a  belief 
that  higher  excellence  is  the  very  end  for  which  we  were 
made,  is  a  spring  of  generous  and  unwearied  activity. 
This  faith,  when  deeply  fixed  in  the  mind,  is  a  pledge 
and  earnest  of  the  improvement  to  which  it  aspires.  It 
awakens  new  power  in  the  soul.  It  gives  a  natural  dig 
nity  to  the  thoughts  and  actions,  and  produces  an  almost 
involuntary  abstinence  from  all  that  is  false  and  selfish." — 
Memoirs,  vol.  ii.  p.  31. 

This  is  enough.  It  is  plain  that  the  exalted  view 
of  human  nature  which  holds  the  highest  place 
among  his  thoughts  is  no  mere  philosophical  specu 
lation,  but  is  a  portion  of  his  own  spiritual  life.  Al 
though  no  subject  has  more  dignity  and  richness  as 
a  purely  intellectual  theme,  yet  it  is  far  more  inter 
esting  to  us,  coming  as  a  cheering  light  into  our 
discouragement,  and  as  an  exhortation  arousing  us 
to  courage  and  to  effort.  Deep  was  this  faith  in 
human  capacity  in  the  inward  life  of  Channing. 
Everywhere  its  evidences  appear.  The  great  sen 
timent  taking  hold  of  his  mind  at  the  age  of  fifteen, 
in  the  rapturous  glow  and  generosity  of  youth,  it 
had  a  long  time  in  which  to  become  vigorous  and 
perfect ;  whilst  the  peculiarity  of  his  mind,  that 
brought  to  all  the  important  convictions  of  the  intel 
lect  the  life  of  the  soul,  prevented  this  great  idea  from 
taking  root  exclusively  in  the  grounds  of  speculation. 
Hence  it  is  always  clothed  with  the  beauty  and 
freshness  of  the  soul  itself. 


CHANNING. 


But  this  subject  should  not  be  dismissed  without 
a  mutual  appreciation  of  the  fact,  that  man  can  do 
nothing,  and  hope  nothing,  except  that  for  which  his 
nature  is  sufficient.  All  that  any  one  has  for  weal 
or  for  woe  is  his  nature,  from  which  proceeds  all 
that  he  can  do,  aided  by  outward  means.  Omnipo 
tence  itself  can  carry  no  being  forward  further  than 
his  capacity  admits.  The  means,  whatever  they  are, 
become  effectual  only  from  previous  ability  to  know 
and  wield  them ;  whilst  it  is  self-evident  that  man 
must  be  greater  than  his  means,  or  they  can  be  of  no 
service. 

But  in  the  full  and  earnest  assertion  of  human 
dignity  is  implied  at  least  a  comparatively  low  state 
of  human  nature.  Else  where  is  the  necessity  of 
vindication  ?  Who  need  to  assert  the  brightness 
of  the  sun,  the  genius  of  Shakspeare,  or  the  royal 
dignity  of  a  well  and  long-established  throne  ?  These 
speak  so  plainly  for  themselves,  that  they  accuse  the 
vindicator  of  folly.  The  truth  is,  that  in  this  early 
and  grosser  school  of  humanity,  in  which  the  spiritual 
is  bound  by  the  material  with  its  appetites  and  pas 
sions,  and  in  which  so  much  ignorance,  weakness, 
and  unexplained  misery  obtains,  and  especially 
where  there  are  so  many  vices  and  conflicts,  the 
dignity  of  humanity  must  be  seen  through  many 
clouds.  Its  brightness  is  overshadowed  by  appear 
ance  and  by  fact.  The  antagonism  of  the  appetites 
and  passions  to  the  high  moral  force,  though  neces 
sary  to  the  formation  of  vigorous  character,  strikes 
many  as  the  proof  of  abasement ;  whereas  it  only 
teaches,  that  man  comes  into  being  with  character 
5* 


54  CHANNING. 

unformed,  and  that  great  and  opposing  elements  of 
nature  are  given,  that  greatness  of  character  may  be 
made  possible.  It  is  only  when  the  noble  and  gen 
erous  character  is  formed,  that  the  promise  of  nature 
is  fulfilled.  As  we  would  judge  a  vegetable  race, 
not  from  its  stinted,  but  from  its  perfect  growths,  so 
would  we  judge  of  humanity,  not  from  its  failures, 
but  from  its  successes ;  from  all  its  good  men  and 
true  ;  from  its  Washingtons,  Fenelons,  and  Newtons ; 
from  all  who  subdue  themselves  to  the  laws  of  their 
higher  life.  We  cannot  but  think,  that  this  whole 
question  of  human  nature,  both  pro  and  cow,  belongs 
exclusively  to  the  grosser  stages  of  man's  progress, 
in  which  the  phenomena  of  life  are  not  interpreted 
by  a  literal  wisdom,  and  in  which  there  are  great 
perversions  of  his  powers.  AVe  sincerely  hope  for  a 
time,  when  the  brightest  displays  of  human  glory 
will  strike  none  as  novel ;  when  the  teacher  of  men 
will  have  no  need  to  seek  the  evidences  that  shall 
convince  them  of  the  exalted  worth  and  dignity  of 
their  being,  no  more,  indeed,  than  it  is  now  needful 
to  persuade  a  Rothschild  of  his  fortunes,  or  a  de 
scendant  of  the  house  of  Hapsburg  of  his  royal 
lineage.  Perfect  dignity  and  unobscured  needs  no 
advocate. 

But  this  advocacy,  on  the  part  of  Dr.  Channing, 
was  necessary  and  in  place,  not  only  from  the 
darkness  that  actually  obscures  the  glory  of  the  soul 
from  the  common  view,  but  from  the  fact,  that  hu 
man  nature  was  denounced  as  evil  by  the  prevailing 
theology.  It  was  believed  to  be  totally  corrupt  and 
disabled.  Despotisms  then,  as  now,  oppressed  the 


CHANNING. 


55 


souls  and  bodies  of  millions,  all  implying  a  basis  of 
irreverence  to  man.  Indeed,  it  will  be  long  ere  this 
advocacy  can  be  out  of  place,  —  never,  we  are  sure, 
till  man  reveals  the  glory  of  his  nature  in  a  continu 
ous  series  of  noble  deeds,  by  a  conduct  coming  up 
to  the  possibilities  of  his  higher  self.  It  is  certain 
that  this  idea  needed  a  distinct  representation,  that 
the  skeptical  doubt  and  the  theological  dogma  might 
be  alike  overwhelmed  ;  and  no  truth  ever  demanded 
a  representative  in  whom  human  nature  appears 
in  superior  excellence  more  than  this.  All  great 
teachers  are  born  to  bear  witness  unto  the  truth ; 
and  it  is  our  conviction,  that  William  Ellery  Chan- 
ning  was  born  to  bear  particular  witness  to  this  truth, 
against  which  the  vices  and  the  oppressions  of  ages 
are  strongly  arrayed.  It  cannot  be  supposed,  that, 
by  nature,  man  is  only  evil ;  for  the  very  verdict  of 
depravity  which  man  passes  on  himself  implies  that 
his  standard  of  comparison  and  decision  is  one  of 
goodness,  in  which  he  confides,  which  could  not 
exist  in  his  mind  were  he  totally  corrupt  and  inca 
pable  of  good.  You  cannot  account  for  the  ver 
dict, —  for  its  very  existence,  we  mean,  —  without  the 
overthrow  of  this  position.  A  race  totally  depraved 
Avould  be  incapable  of  the  standards  by  which  to 
determine  the  fact.  But  we  would  only  speak  of 
this  matter  in  the  way  of  common  reasoning,  not 
choosing  to  enter  on  topics  of  theological  dispute. 
We  speak  of  Dr.  Channing  as  the  best  representa 
tive  we  know  of  the  idea  of  the  inherent  and  incal 
culable  worth  of  human  nature,  in  which  light  he 
strikes  us  almost  as  an  apostle  of  the  human  race. 


56 


CHANNING. 


Still  even  here,  in  the  strong-hold  of  his  mental  effort, 
the  mild  prophet  is  perhaps  more  apparent  than  the 
strong  philosopher  ;  for  usually  he  gives  us  his  clear 
convictions,  without  presenting  in  full  the  basis  on 
which  his  views  are  made  to  rest.  Perhaps  some 
unpublished  philosophical  discourses  may  do  this ; 
and  we  have  strong  reason  to  think  that  this  was  the 
purpose  to  have  been  fulfilled  by  the  uncompleted 
work  he  had  partially  laid  out  on  the  subject  of 
"  Man." 

Having  introduced  Dr.  Channing  under  the  idea, 
for  which  his  literature  is  more  than  by  any  other 
distinguished,  let  us  inquire  for  some  of  the  leading 
traits  of  his  mind  and  character  ;  for  in  these  we 
shall  not  only  find  the  mirror  of  his  views,  to  which 
they  correspond,  but  we  shall  share  the  elevating 
influence  of  the  traits  and  virtues  we  contemplate. 

And  the  first  thought  which  the  contemplation  of 
his  character  suggests  is  that  of  a  high  moral  purity. 
Influence,  indeed,  is  a  very  mysterious  agency.  But 
we  believe  it  is  universally  like  the  objects  whence  it 
comes.  If  the  purity  of  Channing's  character  may 
be  judged  by  the  influence  he  exerts  on  others, 
even  through  the  distant  medium  of  written  com 
munication,  it  must  be  very  high.  He  always  speaks 
as  one  accustomed  to  noble  and  generous  motives. 
He  bears  us  above  our  selfishness  into  the  region  of 
universal  love  and  justice.  The  atmosphere  of  uni 
versal  truth,  which  is  the  mountain  air  of  the  moral 
universe,  seems  to  have  been  his  spiritual  home; 
and  it  is  to  this  elevation  that  his  influences  carry  us. 
We  arise  from  his  pages  unable  to  define  the  power 


CHANNING.  57 

that  has  reached  us ;  but  this  we  know,  that,  for  the 
time,  we  have  arisen  into  an  empyrean  of  light  and 
disinterestedness  to  which  society  and  ourselves  a>\: 
not  accustomed.  There  are  moments  when  eacii 
and  all  of  us  dwell  in  these  higher  motives  and  feel 
ings  ;  but  it  is  the  distinction  of  holier  ones,  that  they 
become  natives  and  citizens  of  these  sacred  summits. 
The  character  of  Channing  is  a  strong  character. 
It  is  evidently  the  consistent  growth  of  much  labor 
and  of  many  years.  His  private  papers,  containing 
the  record  of  daily  impressions  and  purposes,  ex 
hibit  strong  yearnings  after  the  perfect,  —  great 
watchfulness  and  care  over  himself,  lest  he  should 
not  live  under  the  perpetual  sway  of  goodness  and 
truth. 

One  great  distinction  of  Dr.  Channing  is,  he  loved 
the  truth  for  its  own  sake.  And  when  we  have  said 
tills,  we  Ihlrik  that  a  principal  trait  of  his  greatness 
is  told.  This  is  the  secret  of  the  highest  moral 
power.  And  how  simple  and  natural  is  this  gener 
ous  feeling  of  the  heart !  Yet  many  of  vigorous 
intellect  gain  little  power  over  the  souls  of  men,  on 
account  of  its  absence.  Who  gives  evidence  of  a 
stronger  confidence  in  truth  ?  Few  persons  ever 
watched  themselves  with  a  more  determined  purpose 
to  be  true  to  their  inward  light ;  and  his  most  solemn 
charge  to  others,  "  Be  true,"  and  "  Reverence  truth," 
we  believe  to  be  but  the  simple  utterance  of  what  he 
sought  to  live,  and  what  his  deepest  experience 
approved  as  divine.  This  loyalty  to  strong  convic 
tions,  this  love  of  truth  for  its  own  sake,  kept  his 
mind  above  the  biases  of  parties,  where  he  could 


58  CHANNING. 

contemplate  subjects  from  points  of  view  yielding  a 
wide  scope  of  vision.  He  feared  the  shackles  of 
sects  and  of  associated  numbers  chiefly  on  this  ac 
count,  and  would  sooner  stand  alone  in  the  seeking 
and  utterance  of  truth,  unawed  and  unpledged  to 
any. 

The  power  of  generous,  pure  affection  in  bearing 
up  the  intellect  into  a  region  of  higher  moral  dis 
covery,  in  forming  a  sensibility  to  truth  which  secures 
its  possession,  and  in  determining  the  quality  of 
influence  both  for  the  present  and  the  future,  displays 
itself  alike  striking  in  his  moral  philosophy  and  in 
ward  aspiration.  "  I  long,"  said  he  (soon  after  the 
choice  of  his  profession),  "  most  earnestly  long,  to  be 
such  a  minister  as  Fenelon  describes.  What  liberty 
so  valuable  as  liberty  of  heart  ?  —  freedom  from 
sin?"  Indeed,  Channing  was  much  like  Fenelon, 
with,  however,  a  wider  mental  vision,  and  a  more 
philosophical  mind.  In  the  purity  and  transparency 
of  character  which  belong  to  him,  may  we  not  read 
the  quality  and  the  value  of  his  future  influences  ? 

We  would  notice  his  philanthropy,  which,  though 
it  shrunk  from  all  noisy  display,  and  sought  to  oper 
ate  like  the  beneficent  agencies  of  nature  around  us, 
was  spiritual,  earnest,  and  strong.  It  had,  of  course, 
a  spiritual  basis,  as  had  all  his  hopes  for  the  human 
race.  It  was,  therefore,  in  the  rescue  of  the  mind, 
in  the  wise  direction  and  full  development  of  its 
powers,  that  his  philanthropy  found  its  chief  expres 
sion.  For  it  is  through  this  that  the  individual  rises 
to  the  comprehension  of  his  evils,  subdues  tempta 
tion,  plans  his  outward  well-being,  and  realizes  the 


CHANNING. 


greatest  happiness  and  glory  of  his  nature.  To  this 
great  end  no  outward  prosperity  nor  ample  supply  of 
physical  want  could  blind  his  eye.  In  dealing  with 
the  evils  of  society,  he  saw  their  sources  in  the  weak 
nesses  and  vices  of  the  mind,  and  accordingly  sought 
the  healing  waters  from  spiritual  soil.  He  saw  the 
awful  feature  of  intemperance,  not  in  the  ruin  of  pro 
perty,  reputation,  and  health,  but  in  the  renunciation 
of  the  Reason,  in  the  surrender  of  manhood  to  the 
appetites.  This  breaking-down  of  the  soul's  dignity 
and  power  was  to  him  the  only  evil ;  whilst  the  voice 
of  the  outward  ruins  was  but  the  trumpet  of  circum 
stance  announcing  the  inward  wrong.  The  same 
of  slavery.  Its  cause  and  curse  are  in  the  spirit 
that  enslaves,  in  the  thirst  of  power  and  worldly 
gain ;  and  the  prince  of  all  its  evils  is  the  wrong  it 
does  to  the  soul's  prerogatives  of  reason  and  con 
science,  in  the  actual  denial  of  the  manhood  of  a 
human  being.  War  is  a  tempest  of  sin,  not  so  much 
from  the  abstract  loss  of  animal  life  and  human 
property,  as  from  the  degradation  and  imbrutement 
of  a  human  being.  Here  lay  the  woful  wrong. 
This  characteristic  of  Channing's  reasoning,  the  dis 
covery  of  the  great  causes  as  moral,  and  its  corre 
spondence  with  his  exalted  view  of  human  nature, 
must  strike  the  mind  of  all  his  readers. 

There  is  beauty  in  the  burning  ardor  and  irre 
pressible  enthusiasm  of  those  early  years  when  he 
longed  for  a  wider  plan  of  usefulness.  This  feeling 
to  serve  mankind,  that  burst  forth  so  earnestly  in  his 
letters  from  Old  Virginia,  is  so  beautifully  spontane 
ous  !  "  What  is  man  ?  "  said  he.  "  For  what  was 


60  CHANNING. 

he  born  ?  To  vegetate,  to  draw  nutrition  from  the 
earth,  and  then  wither  away,  forgotten  and  un 
known  ?  O  no !  He  bears  a  spark  of  divinity  in 
his  bosom ;  and  it  is  Promethean  fire  which  animates 
his  clay.  Look  at  the  human  mind.  See  it  bursting 
forth,  spreading  itself  through  infinite  space  by  its 
power  of  receiving  ideas  from  external  objects, 
concentrating  immensity  in  a  point,  and,  by  its 
powers  of  retrospect  and  anticipation,  concentrating 
eternity  in  a  moment.  Need  I  mention  his  faculty 
of  moral  discernment,  or  his  creative  imagination  ? 
Now,  friend,  I  would  ask  you,  in  what  does  the  per 
fection  of  man  consist  ?  Which  part  of  his  nature 
requires  most  care  ?  From  what  source  is  his  most 
rational  and  permanent  happiness  derived  ?  The 
answer  you  must  make  is,  '  The  mind.'  Now  let 
me  ask  you  to  look  on  the  world,  and  show  me  the 
man  who  is  engaged  in  this  improvement.  All  is 
hurry,  all  is  business.  But  why  this  tumult  ?  " 

"  I  grant  that  man  is  selfish ;  but  ought  he  to  be  so  ? 
Was  man  framed  for  himself  or  for  his  fellow-men  ?  On 
this  point  of  morality  I  know  we  shall  agree ;  and  you 
will  think,  as  I  do,  that,  if  we  can  sxibstitute  benevolence 
for  selfishness,  we  shall  add  to  the  sum  of  human  virtue 
and  happiness.  Again,  ought  man  to  provide  most  for 
his  body  or  his  mind  ?  Here,  too,  we  shall  agree ;  and 
no  doubt  you  wish  to  see  the  love  of  science  take  the 
place  of  a  love  of  money  in  the  human  breast.  Now,  I 
think  these  changes  can  be  effected  in  the  sentiments  and 
feelings  of  mankind.  How  ?  By  education.  Judge  from 
your  own  feelings  whether  the  principle  of  benevolence  or 
humanity  is  not  so  strongly  impressed  on  the  heart  by 


CHANNING.  61 

God  himself,  that  with  proper  care  it  might  become  the 
principle  of  action.  Judge  from  your  own  feelings  whe 
ther  the  love  of  science  is  not  founded  on  so  natural  a 
sentiment,  —  I  mean  curiosity,  —  that  with  the  same  care 
it  would  pervade  every  bosom.  I  declare  I  believe  these 
ideas  to  be  incontrovertible.  Do  you  not  glow  at  the 
prospect?  Behold  the  rising  virtues  attended  by  truth 
and  wisdom ;  peace  with  her  olive  branch,  compassion 
with  her  balm. !  O  my  friend !  I  can  go  no  farther.  I 
feel  a  noble  enthusiasm  spreading  through  my  frame ; 
every  nerve  is  strung,  every  muscle  is  laboring ;  my  bo 
som  pants  with  a  great,  half-conceived,  and  indescribable 
sentiment ;  I  seem  inspired  with  a  surrounding  deity." 

Thus  spake  the  youth.  This  early  philanthropy  and 
faith  in  man  are  beautiful  and  prophetic  ;  whilst  the 
earnest  spiritual  fire  that  flamed  out  in  these  last 
expressions  throw  much  light  on  his  moral  tempera 
ment,  which  by  nature  was  any  thing  but  coldness. 
Practical  was  Channing's  benevolence.  It  always 
saw  the  difficulties,  and  asked  the  ways  and  means. 
Whoever  imagines  that  Dr.  Channing's  benevolence 
was  ideal,  that  it  exhausted  itself  in  dreamy  theoriza- 
tion  on  abstract  humanity,  should  read  his  diary, 
and  learn  what  most  concerned  him.  Is  this  moral 
sentimentalism  ?  —  "  Things  to  be  done  in  town. 
Comfortable  houses  to  be  let  cheap,  for  the  poor. 
Innocent  and  improving  amusements.  Interesting 
works  to  be  circulated  among  them.  Poor-house 
rooms  to  be  better  aired.  Causes  of  poverty  to  be 
traced.  Excite  no  feeling  of  dependence.  Stimulate 
to  exertion.  Relief  such  as  to  call  out  energy,  and 
remove  whatever  disheartens  and  disables.  How 


62  CHANNING. 

much  capacity  there  is  in  the  poorer  classes,  of  know 
ledge  and  affection  !  Why  is  it  not  developed  ?  " 

Noiseless  as  comes  God's  gift  of  day,  did  his 
beneficence  go  out  to  others ;  nor  did  his  philan 
thropy  wear  the  least  tinge  of  that  professing  large 
ness  which  loves  man  most  dearly  abroad,  whilst  it 
neglects  him  at  home.  The  beautiful  fact  of  Chan- 
ning's  philanthropy  is,  that  it  made  no  unnecessary 
speeches,  is  free  from  pretension,  and,  instead  of 
seeking  embodiment  in  particular  organizations,  it 
went  forth  in  the  silent  influence  of  individual 
thought  and  action.  Great  and  good  is  this  senti 
ment  of  loving  man ;  and  were  it  to  become  real 
and  genuine,  fewer  words  would  express  it  to  others. 
We  ask  the  philanthropy  that  thinks,  feels,  and  ads  ; 
one  that  can  speak  when  speech  is  necessary,  and 
certainly  one  that  knows  how  to  be  silent.  But 
never  can  such  a  philanthropy  exist  without  a  deep 
faith  in  the  worth  and  sacredness  of  humanity,  as  its 
basis.  Nothing  less  than  this  can  inspire  the  purpose, 
"  For  worlds  I  would  not  own  a  slave."  Nothing 
less  can  exclaim,  "  What !  own  a  spiritual  being  ! 
a  being  made  to  know  and  adore  God,  and  who  is 
to  outlive  sun  and  stars  !  What  !  chain  to  our  low 
est  uses  a  being  made  for  truth  and  virtue !  Suns 
and  stars  may  be  owned,  but  not  the  lowest  spirit. 
Touch  any  thing  but  this.  Lay  not  your  hand  on 
God's  rational  offspring.  The  whole  spiritual  world 
cries  out,  Forbear  !  " 

Thus  does  the  view  of  humanity,  which  Dr.  Chan- 
ning  so  ably  represents,  sustain  to  his  philanthropy 
the  relation  of  the  fountain  to  its  crystal  stream. 


CHANNING. 


His  liberality,  which  perhaps  is  but  another  name 
for  enlargement  of  mind,  his  freedom  from  preju 
dice,  and  clear  comprehension  of  the  truth  and 
'goodness  belonging  to  all  parties,  form  certainly  a 
bright  gem  in  the  beauty  of  his  character.  Chan- 
ning  saw  as  few  see  the  poverty  of  those  limits  with 
which  men  are  usually  satisfied ;  and,  believing  in 
the  infinity  of  truth,  and  in  the  progress  of  man,  he 
could  never  look  upon  any  sect  as  being  more  than 
a  partial  manifestation  of  the  true  light.  He  plead 
the  distinction  between  human  goodness  and  human 
opinion,  however  hallowed  by  time  or  sanctioned  by 
numbers ;  and,  under  the  veil  of  skepticism,  was  as 
willing  to  acknowledge  as  to  witness  the  existence 
of  great  virtues.  Herein  was  the  surprise  of  Cole 
ridge,  that  he  should  find  in  the  American  preacher 
such  freedom  from  the  prejudices  common  to  every 
school  of  belief.  But  this  fact,  as  already  observed, 
is  but  an  affirmation  of  a  thorough  and  wide  com 
prehensiveness  ;  for  he  whose  penetrating  energy 
and  all-embracing  interest  are  each  remarkable,  is 
necessarily  free,  and  often  to  the  dissatisfaction  of 
every  party.  He  whose  constant  inquiry  is,  "  What 
is  truth  ?  "  and  who  hearkens  to  all  the  objections 
which  silently  arise  even  against  settled  and  favorite 
positions,  can  never  know  the  severe  bondage  of  sec 
tarianism  ;  and  a  brief  passage  of  Channing  to  his 
friend  is  so  apparent  in  his  character,  that  we  give  it 
a  place  in  our  essay.  "  I  owe,"  said  he,  "  the  little 
which  I  am  to  the  conscientiousness  with  which  I  have 
listened  to  objections  springing  up  in  my  own  mind 
to  what  I  have  inclined  and  sometimes  thirsted  to  be- 


64  CHANNING. 

lieve  ;  and  I  have  attained  through  this  to  a  serenity 
of  faith  that  once  seemed  denied  in  the  present 
state." 

The  liberality  of  his  mind  was  aided,  we  think,  by 
his  doctrine  of  progress.  No  man  should  say,  "  I 
have  formed  my  system,"  and  there  rest  contented. 
Believing  that  Nature  and  Christianity  are  but  par 
tially  known,  and  regarding  the  soul  as  formed  for 
endless  advancement,  he  not  only  inferred  the  possi 
bility,  but  the  moral  certainty,  of  the  future  dawn  of 
new  truths.  Hence  he  was  apparently  always  on 
the  watch-tower  to  behold  some  new  exhibitions 
of  great  truths  and  principles,  as  they  might  be  pre 
sented  in  the  events  of  society,  in  the  phenomena 
of  the  soul  and  in  visible  nature. 

In  the  spirit  which  Channing  inculcated,  all  de 
nominations  might  be  one  in  Christ ;  for  he  regarded 
them  all  as  representing  some  great  and  important 
truth.  Accordingly,  his  pulpit  exchanges,  during 
the  first  years  of  his  ministry  in  Boston,  before  the 
storm  of  ecclesiastical  controversy  came  on,  are  said 
to  have  been  so  unsectarian,  that  he  was  alternately 
owned  and  disowned  by  all  the  sects  around  him. 
But  the  liberality  of  Dr.  Channing  never  approached 
the  indifference  that  cares  not  for  what  is  believed, 
but  always  accompanied  deep  earnestness  in  the 
cause  of  truth,  an  uncompromising  opposition  to 
what  he  deemed  to  be  error.  This  broad  charity 
was  the  offspring  of  a  wisdom  which  saw  the  love  of 
truth  that  wrought  under  all  differences,  that  hoped 
more  for  the  future  than  the  past  or  the  present  was 
able  to  give,  that  made  allowances  for  diversity  of 


CHANNING.  DO 

education  and  mental  tendency ;  and  we  should 
add  to  all  the  considerations  that  pertain  to  intellec 
tual  expansion,  the  generous  love  and  reverence  of 
humanity,  that  always  tends  to  unite  in  bonds  of 
charitable  interest  all  who  are  enriched-  with  their 
possession. 

The  independence  and  self-reliance  of  Channing 
blend  in  beautiful  contrast  with  his  reverence  for 
others.  This  is  a  prominent  trait.  He  approached 
all  subjects  and  persons  with  the  dignified  air  of 
respect ;  and  a  tone  of  reverence  for  other  minds, 
for  their  thoughts  and  motives,  is  plainly  perceptible 
in  his  general  allusions,  in  his  various  letters,  and  in 
many  incidents  unnecessary  to  particularize.  We 
think  this  power  of  veneration  was  deep ;  for  in 
nature  and  in  man,  he  always  saw  the  divine.  Hu 
manity,  through  his  views,  was  particularly  sacred ; 
and  how  could  he  feel  otherwise  than  reverent  to 
wards  it  ?  Characteristic,  as  well  as  philosophically 
prophetic,  is  the  intimation  in  his  writings,  that  the 
true  reverence  for  human  nature  Avould  create  tones 
of  eloquence  as  yet  unheard.  A  bearing  of  man 
toward  man  would  reveal  a  dignity  and  grace  as 
yet  unknown  in  human  manners.  But  this  quality, 
whilst  it  extended  largely  to  others,  did  not  stand 
alone,  but  was  balanced  by  a  firm  and  tranquil 
power  of  self-reliance.  He  permitted  none  to  invade 
the  pale  of  his  mental  freedom.  He  would  think 
and  speak  for  himself,  preserving  inviolate  the  fidelity 
he  owed  to  the  decisions  of  his  own  reason  and  con 
science.  Power  naturally  relies  on  itself.  But  the 
potency  with  which  he  cautioned  others  to  resist 
6* 


66  CHANNING. 

spiritual  aggression,  the  jealousy  with  which  he  con 
templated  the  influence  of  numbers  bound  by  a  party 
bond,  the  plea  he  made  for  individual  agency  as 
better  than  a  pledged  associative  action,  the  suprem 
acy  of  the  rational  and  moral  nature  within  over  all 
imposing  authority  from  without,  and  the  frequent 
allusions  to  the  foes  by  which  the  independence  of 
the  soul  is  everywhere  threatened,  prove  that  the 
subject  had  been  well  investigated,  that  the  costs* 
attending  this  vigorous  trait  of  character  had  been 
ascertained,  and  that  his  self-relying  mind  was  ren 
dered  such,  not  wholly  by  native  tendency,  but  more 
especially  through  a  settled  purpose,  on  the  forma 
tion  of  which  the  light  of  a  various  observation  and 
of  deep  meditations  had  shone.  Self-reliance  is 
doubtless  an  element  of  every  strong  character.  But 
there  is  a  foe  to  its  existence  in  the  pride  of  fashion, 
in  the  sway  of  sects,  in  the  traditions  of  the  past,  and 
in  the  disposition  of  the  many  to  blindly  follow  the 
self-confident  leader.  But  where  has  Channing  left 
a  single  trace  of  subserviency  ?  What  passage  in 
his  life  or  literature  is  destitute  of  an  independent 
and  manly  air  ?  In  several  utterances  on  individual 
freedom,  he  has  unconsciously  sketched  his  own 
character.  As  for  instance  :  — 

"  We  must  commit  ourselves  fully  to  a  principle  of 
truth  and  right ;  we  must  dare  to  follow  it  to  the  end. 
Moral  independence  is  the  essential  of  loving  warmly, 
thinking  deeply,  acting  efficiently,  of  having  the  soul 
awake,  of  true  life.  This  habit  of  relying  on  principle 
should  give  us  a  buoyant  consciousness  of  superiority  to 
every  outward  influence.  A  far-sighted  anticipation  of 


CHANNING.  07 

great  results  from  worthy  deeds  should  make  us  strenuous 
in  action,  and  fill  us  with  a  cheerful  trust." 

Other  and  forcible  expressions  of  this  attribute 
frequently  occur.  Let  us  enrich  our  pages  with  a 
feAv  more  of  these  truthful  and  elegant  quotations. 

"  What  faculties  slumber  within,  weighed  down  by  the 
chains  of  custom !  The  want  of  courage  to  carry  out 
great  principles,  and  to  act  on  them  at  all  risks,  is  fatal 
to  originality  and  freshness.  Conformity  benumbs  and 
cramps  genius  and  creative  power." 

"  A  bold,  free  tone  in  conversation,  the  decided  expres 
sion  of  pure  and  lofty  sentiment,  may  be  influential  to 
change  the  whole  temper  and  cast  of  thinking  of  society 
around  us.  Are  we  not  traitors  to  great  truths,  when  we 
suppress  the  utterance  of  them,  and  let  the  opposite  errors 
pass  unrebuked  ?  We  must  be  palsied  by  no  fear  to 
offend,  no  desire  to  please,  no  dependence  on  the  judg 
ment  of  others.  The  consciousness  of  self-subsistence,  of 
disinterested  conformity  to  high  principles,  must  commu 
nicate  an  open  unreserve  to  our  manners." 

"  Claiming  no  superiority,  allow  not  this  claim  in 
others.  Expect  and  require  from  others  the  same  defer- 
•  ence  which  you  feel  yourselves  bound  to  pay.  As  you 
set  up  no  pretensions  to  exclusive  sanctity  in  yourselves, 
distrust  them  in  your  neighbor.  The  exclusive  saint 
bears  one  broad  mark  of  the  want  of  sanctity.  The  real 
Christian  is  the  last  man  to  be  a  pretender.  Never  suffer 
your  opinions  to  be  treated  with  scorn  in  social  inter 
course,  any  more  than  you  would  your  characters ;  but, 
whilst  you  force  them  on  none,  let  men  see  that  you 
reverence  them  as  truth,  and  that  you  expect  decorum  and 
courtesy  in  those  who  converse  with  you  on  this,  as  on 
deeply  interesting  subjects." 


68  GHANNINO. 

Indeed  this  virtue  of  real  independence,  in  union 
with  proper  courtesy  and  reverence  to  others,  is  so 
rare  that  we  love  to  linger  about  the  genuine  utter 
ance  of  so  high  a  quality.  We  love  to  behold  man 
stronger  than  opinion,  and  mightier  than  custom. 
Never  can  we  forget  the  impression  made  by  the 
following  lines  in  earlier  years  :  — 

"  I  beg  you  to  remember,  that  in  this  discourse  I  speak 
in  my  own  name,  and  in  no  other.  I  am  not  giving  you  the 
opinions  of  any  sect  or  body  of  men,  but  my  own.  I  hold 
myself  alone  responsible  for  what  I  utter.  Let  none  listen 
to  me  for  the  purpose  of  learning  what  others  think.  I, 
indeed,  belong  to  that  class  of  Christians  who  are  distin 
guished  by  believing,  that  there  is  but  one  God,  even  the 
Father ;  and  that  Jesus  Christ  is  not  this  one  God,  but 
his  dependent  and  obedient  Son.  But  my  accordance 
with  these  is  far  from  being  universal,  nor  have  I  any 
desire  to  extend  it.  What  other  men  believe  is  to  me  of 
little  moment.  Their  arguments  I  gratefully  hear.  Their 
conclusions  I  am  free  to  receive  or  reject.  I  have  no 
anxiety  to  wear  the  livery  of  any  party.  I,  indeed,  take 
cheerfully  the  name  of  a  Unitarian,  because  unwearied 
efforts  are  used  to  raise  against  it  a  popular  cry  ;  and  I ' 
have  not  so  learned  Christ  as  to  shrink  from  reproaches 
cast  on  what  I  deem  his  truth.  Were  the  name  more 
honored,  I  should  be  glad  to  throw  it  off;  for  I  fear  the 
shackles  which  a  party  connection  imposes.  I  wish  to 
regard  myself  as  belonging,  not  to  a  sect,  but  to  the 
community  of  free  minds,  of  lovers  of  truth,  of  followers 
of  Christ,  both  on  earth  and  in  heaven.  I  desire  to  escape 
the  narrow  walls  of  a  particular  church,  and  to  live  under 
the  open  sky,  in  the  broad  light,  looking  far  and  wide, 
seeing  with  my  own  eyes,  hearing  with  my  own  ears,  and 


CHANNING.  69 

following  truth  meekly  but  resolutely,  however  arduous 
or  solitary  be  the  path  in  which  she  leads.  I  am,  then, 
no  organ  of  a  sect,  but  speak  from  myself  alone  ;  and  I 
thank  God,  that  I  live  at  a  time  and  under  circumstances 
which  make  it  my  duty  to  lay  open  my  whole  mind  with 
freedom  and  simplicity." 

The  deep  seriousness  that  pervaded  his  thoughts 
and  brooded  over  his  whole  mental  action,  though  at 
times  some  may  have  felt  it  as  somewhat  severe  in 
his  manner,  we  must  regard  as  the  richest  of  moral 
and  intellectual  traits.  Through  this  appears  more 
and  more  the  depth  of  his  thoughts  and  virtues. 
Through  this  also  the  deeper  springs  of  the  soul, 
springs  that  lie  beneath  the  upper  and  surface-world 
of  emotion,  are  reached.  Truth  never  penetrates  us 
so  thoroughly  as  when  it  comes  wearing  the  hues  of 
a  deep  and  thoughtful  seriousness.  But  there  is  no 
lack  of  serene  cheerfulness.  Indeed,  where  will  you 
find  brighter  beamings  of  hope  ?  Hope  was  always 
radiant  in  Channing ;  and  here,  as  elsewhere,  there 
appears  the  harmonious  blending  of  apparent  oppo- 
sites. 

It  is  stated,  that  his  childhood  was  tinged  with 
sedateness ;  that,  about  the  time  of  his  entrance  on 
the  ministry,  his  habits  of  abstraction  and  seriousness 
almost  rendered  his  presence  oppressive  ;  that,  in  the 
pulpits  where  he  was  a  general  favorite,  some  com 
plained  of  his  gloom.  These  facts  of  his  earlier  life, 
which  was  succeeded  by  a  gradual  ascendency  of 
sunshine,  are  accounted  for  in  his  Memoirs  by  the 
circumstances  of  ill  health  and  extreme  conscien 
tiousness.  Let  these  have  their  weight  in  accounting 


70  CHANNING. 

for  the  excess  of  the  solemn  shade.  But  the  mere 
fact  of  deep  seriousness  resolves  itself  into  the  depth 
of  his  own  spirit.  The  mind  that  comprehends  most, 
that  sees  most  of  the  good  and  evil  existing  in  human 
life,  that  lives  in  communion  with  great  truths  and 
prospects,  that  holds  a  consciousness  of  excellence 
upon  Avhich  the  rough  agencies  of  the  world's  evil 
are  constantly  breaking  in,  and  that  is  exquisitely 
alive  to  all  moral  deformity  and  violence,  must,  in  a 
world  like  this,  hold  deep  seriousness  as  a  part  of  its 
nature.  From  the  great  struggle  of  humanity  with 
evil,  from  the  peril  attending  the  greatest  good 
through  which  all  may  be  lost,  from  the  vast  value 
of  man,  from  the  infinitude  of  truth  and  of  the  Un 
known,  there  falls  upon  us  a  shade  of  seriousness 
which  souls  of  deeper  action  and  of  moral  greatness 
must  wear.  Great  hope  and  great  joy  are  serious. 
All  expansion  of  Power,  whether  of  mind  or  of  mat 
ter,  whether  addressing  us  from  mountains,  oceans, 
and  skies,  or  from  the  vastness  of  high  purpose,  the 
grandeur  of  great  thoughts  and  native  powers,  sends 
forth  an  influence  of  solemnity,  and  exhibits  that 
which  is  somewhat  inspiring  of  awe.  But  as  good 
ness  and  hope  are  supreme  in  the  depths  of  the  uni 
verse,  so  is  the  serenity  of  these  the  principal  trait  in 
the  highest  characters ;  and  if  we  have  not  studied 
the  character  of  Channing  in  vain,  this  serene  cheer 
fulness,  like  the  tranquillity  of  stars,  pervaded  it.  We 
read  him  for  encouragement,  for  the  courage  and 
hope  he  awakens.  This  balance  of  light  and  shade, 
seriousness  and  cheerfulness,  cannot  dissatisfy  us ; 
for  we  think  we  discover  its  proper  accordance  with 


CHANNING.  71 

a  similar  balance  in  all  nature,  which,  taken  as  the 
mirrored  expression  of  the  Creator,  suggests  the  per 
fect  union  of  these  traits  in  Him.  We  know  and 
acknowledge  the  value  of  mirth ;  and  we  are  told 
that  its  spontaneous  outburst  from  the  joyous  heart 
always  gave  him  delight,  whilst  passages  are  not 
wanting  in  which  he  pleads  the  law  of  amusement  in 
our  nature  as  deserving  means  of  satisfaction  not  yet 
introduced,  —  passages  which  assert  the  healthful, 
temperate,  virtuous  tendency  of  innocent  amuse 
ments  over  the  people.  Nor  did  his  analogical  sug- 
gestiveness  fail  to  point  out  corresponding  voices  in 
the  joyous  notes  and  scenes  of  the  outward  world. 
We  admit,  we  say,  the  value  of  mirth.  But  never  do 
we  expect  to  meet  a  deeply  interesting  and  extra 
ordinary  character,  such  as  takes  a  generous  and 
lasting  hold  upon  us,  in  which  seriousness,  all  beauti 
ful  and  impressive,  is  not  the  prevailing  element. 

Under  the  name  of  cautiousness,  we  would  notice 
the  conservative  tendency  of  Channing's  mind.  To 
this  also  belong  the  gentle  distance  and  cool  reserve 
observable  in  his  manners.  He  was  always  alive  to 
the  perils  of  society ;  which  apprehensiveness,  how 
ever,  was  balanced  by  a  serene  fulness  of  hope.  In 
every  paragraph  of  his  writings,  the  meaning  is 
guarded  from  perversion  and  mistake.  He  antici 
pates  every  danger.  No  man  was  ever  more  thor 
oughly  alive  to  the  perils  which  surround  our  nature 
and  our  lot ;  and  we  believe  that  none  ever  hoped 
more  steadfastly  and  earnestly  than  he.  Without 
being  satisfied  with  the  past,  he  paid  it  homage  ; 
whilst  his  power  to  grasp  and  love,  to  unfold  univer- 


72  CHANNING. 

sal  principles,  prevented  great  names  or  hoary  assent 
from  becoming,  in  any  sense,  his  masters.  Jesus 
would  not  destroy  the  law  or  the  prophets.  He 
sought  to  fulfil  and  to  expand  the  good  already  con 
ceived.  Neither  would  Channing  destroy  the  past  if 
he  could ;  but  would  accept  the  truth  it  has  brought, 
as  thankfully  and  as  cheerfully  as  he  would  welcome 
a  discovery. 

There  are  two  classes  of  minds  which  stand  in 
great  conflict  to  each  other,  and  which  divide  the 
sceptre  in  the  direction  of  society  through  its  great 
changes.  The  first  of  these  are  the  conservatives, 
who  see  the  past  as  all,  who  are  satisfied  with  its 
attainments,  who  seek  salvation  through  its  light,  and 
who  regard  all  innovation  as  perilous.  These  have 
no  patience  with  reformers.  The  other  class,  bold 
in  the  doctrine  of  progress,  embody  some  new  and 
revolutionary  idea,  and  go  on  with  it  as  all.  The 
past  to  them  is  dead.  They  call  it  a  grey  old  hypo 
crite,  a  liar,  a  tyrant,  a  thief.  They  despise  it  for  its 
stupidity ;  whilst  the  future  and  the  new  thought  are 
all  in  all.  The  truth  these  rough  pioneers  bring, 
they  present  in  strong  terms.  They  are  brave  and 
fearless.  They  arouse  and  agitate. 

Now,  Dr.  Channing  belonged  to  neither  of  these, 
but  united  in  himself  the  two  great  principles  of 
conservatism  and  onwardness,  —  these  principles, 
we  say,  purified  from  their  excesses.  There  was  a 
deep  energy  in  his  nature,  a  slumbering  fire,  a  bold, 
brave  spirit  of  truth  and  progress,  reined  and  checked 
by  a  strong  conservative  tendency.  In  society,  the 
conflict  of  these  two  principles  is  but  relatively  real, 


CHANNING.  73 

whilst  their  co-operation  in  the  production  of  reform 
is  absolute  and  perpetual.  In  reference  to  the  grand 
design,  which  is  reform,  they  are  as  the  centripetal 
and  centrifugal  forces,  which  guide  the  planet  in  its 
orbit.  The  former,  you  know,  would  arrest  its  ad 
vance  wholly  by  drawing  it  to  the  central,  parent 
mass,  the  sun ;  whilst  the  latter  would  drive  it  for 
ward  for  ever  in  a  straight-line  progress  through  the 
endless  immensity.  But  the  conflict  of  the  two 
yields  the  beautiful  ellipsis. 

Thus  do  the  conservative  and  the  onward  tenden 
cies  of  society  produce  finally  the  perfect  circle  of 
reform.  The  restless  energy  of  reformers  needs  the 
checks  of  conservative  influence,  or  its  impetuosity 
would  lead  often  to  shipwrecks  ;  whilst  it  is  unques 
tionable,  that  new  truths  get  cleared  of  their  dross 
through  contest,  and  take  finally  a  deeper  root  in 
the  popular  confidence.  These  two  agencies  have 
always  appeared,  in  the  progress  of  society,  in  a 
phenomenal  antagonism  to  each  other ;  but,  in  their 
design  and  final  result,  were  real  and  permanent 
friends.  They  who  have  fought  the  hardest  have  been 
found  contending  for  different  branches  of  the  same 
truth ;  whilst  an  harmonious  wisdom,  greater  than  the 
belligerent  knew,  has  presided  over  their  struggles, 
and  blended  their  influences  into  the  service  of  truth. 
Say  what  we  will  in  our  radical  moments,  the  past 
and  present  are  as  spring  and  summer  in  every  man's 
life  and  in  the  flow  of  ages.  We  may  cry  out,  "  I 
have  nothing  to  do  with  yesterday ;  "  but  yesterday 
has  much  to  do  with  us.  It  is  a  friend  and  compan 
ion  we  cannot  divorce.  Its  history  is  ineflaceably 
7 


74  CHANNING. 

written  in  the  life  and  character  of  to-day.  To 
morrow  can  affect  us  only  by  becoming  yesterday. 
Every  plant  or  bursting  rose-bud  speaks  of  yester 
day.  Its  growth  is  there.  Full  of  interest  are  these 
brave  conflicts  between  new  and  old.  But  the  har 
mony  of  these  appear  in  Channing.  He  was  not 
naturally  a  pioneer :  he  would  not  agitate  community 
much  about  its  errors.  Others  must  first  trouble  the 
waters,  must  throw  some  idea  into  a  state  of  popular 
agitation ;  and  then,  when  the  strife  of  conservative 
and  reformer  had  reached  its  meridian,  he  could*,  in 
the  calmness  of  John  and  in  the  potency  of  Paul, 
present  the  subject  in  such  wide  relations,  in  such 
clearness  and  consistency  as  to  cool  the  strife,  and  con 
vince  all  of  a  truth  and  justice  in  which  they  should 
acquiesce.  We  doubt  that  Channing  had  written  on 
slavery,  had  not  the  abolitionists  first  aroused  the 
country  to  the  rights  of  the  slave.  "We  also  doubt  that 
he  had  ever  stood  forth  in  the  doctrinal  advocacy  of 
new  theological  views,  but  for  the  manner  in  which 
the  public  mind  was  already  agitated  on  themes  of 
wide  theological  difference.  Such  men  are  not  the 
first  movers ;  but,  when  they  do  move,  they  cause  a 
wide  circle  on  the  sea  of  reform,  extending  even  to 
the  very  shores;  whilst  it  not  unfrequently  occurs, 
from  the  want  of  proper  comprehension,  that  both 
parties  claim  and  accuse  the  man  in  whom  these 
two  principles  harmoniously  act. 

We  incline  to  the  opinion,  that  no  one  man  can  give 
the  entire  character  of  another,  however  familiar 
with  its  various  exhibitions.  There  is  usually  more 
in  men  than  they  have  ever  acted  or  spoken.  Espe- 


CHANNING.  75 

cially  is  difficulty  multiplied  when  the  character 
viewed  is  not  a  bold  concentration  of  life  and  energy 
in  one  or  two  projecting  points,  but  abounds  in  the 
refined,  harmonious,  and  almost  invisible  blendings 
of  various  and  seemingly  opposite  qualities.  It  is  in 
such  characters  that  the  spirit  of  excellence  seeks  its 
most  perfect  expansion*  The  character  of  Channing 
evidently  comes  under  this  view.  He  is  clearly  dis 
tinguished  by  the  total  symphony  of  his  powers,  in 
which  the  moral  predominates.  We 'have  noticed, 
as  best  we  could,  the  idea  of  human  worth  that  gave 
light  to  all  his  teaching,  that  influenced  his  own  no 
bler  aspirations,  and  that  left  its  deep  traces  on  his 
character  and  life.  We  have  endeavored  so  to  state 
the  several  traits  of  his  character  observable  at  a  dis 
tance,  his  moral  purity,  philanthropy,  liberality,  great 
self-reliance  and  humble  reverence  of  others,  deep 
seriousness  always  wearing  the  serene  cheerfulness 
of  hope,  and  his  conservative  and  onward  tendencies, 
that  a  just  ideal  of  its  moral  wealth  may  arise  in  the 
reader's  mind.  From  this  department  of  the  subject, 
let  us  advance  to  a  more  particular  examination  of 
his  intellectual  powers. 

The  intellectual  are  indeed  the  executive  faculties, 
the  instrumentality  of  success.  Great  ends  demand 
a  correspondingly  great  executive  energy.  We 
cannot,  without  violence  to  the  plainest  and  sim 
plest  psychological  light,  so  separate  the  intellectual 
from  the  moral  in  any  man  as  not  to  admit  that  the 
highest  quality  of  greatness  in  the  latter  implies  a 
corresponding  excellence  in  the  former.  There  are 
no  Fenelons  in  moral  influence  on  mankind,  who 


76  CHANNING. 

are  not  Fenelons  in  intellectual  refinement  and  en 
ergy.  For  a  time,  therefore,  let  us  consider  William 
Ellery  Channing  merely  as  an  intellectual  man. 

As  mental  characteristics  flow  to  some  extent  from 
ancestral  sources,  it  might  not  be  wholly  out  of  place 
to  name  the  historical  fact,  that  the  grand-parents, 
both  on  his  father's  and  his  mother's  side,  were  per 
sons  of  more  than  ordinary  intelligence  and  energy. 
William  Ellery,  one  of  the  signers  of  the  Declara 
tion,  honored  for  simplicity  and  purity  of  character, 
as  well  as  for  ability  and  good  sense,  is  perhaps  as 
plainly  present  in  the  constitutional  tendencies  of 
him  who  bore  his  name,  as  any  of  his  ancestors. 
But,  as  it  is  desirable  to  contemplate  the  mind  of 
Channing  from  its  own  exhibitions,  we  will  not  seek 
to  trace  out  any  connection  subsisting  between  it 
and"  its  ancestral  springs,  through  the  ever-faithful 
laws  of  hereditary  descent.  Doubtless  he  would  be 
found  to  differ  from  each  and  all. 

The  organization  of  Dr.  Channing,  frail  as  it  be 
came,  was  peculiarly  and  happily  adapted  to  per 
ceive  and  to  realize  truth.  We  may  not  be  fully 
understood  by  all  in  the  sentiment  here  spoken  ;  but 
there  are  many  who  know,  better  than  they  can 
express,  the  truth  to  which  we  refer,  —  the  peculiar 
fitness  of  certain  organizations  to  receive,  through 
sympathetic  sensibility,  the  divinest  influences.  We 
occasionally  meet  one  whose  eye  and  form  have, 
more  than  others,  a  spiritual  expression,  —  an  ex 
pression  that  intimates  a  natural  fellowship  with 
truth  in  its  highest  and  beautiful  forms.  Their  very 
nerves  have  a  sensibility  to  the  True.  Perhaps, 


CHANNING. 


however,  this  is  only  another  mode  of  stating  the 
higher  fact  of  mental  excellence  to  which  the  per 
sonal  materiality  conforms,  since  refinement  of  sen 
sibility  in  the  soul  is  apt  to  have  its  clear  expression 
in  the  body.  Be  this  as  it  may,  it  is  certain  that  Dr. 
Channing  possessed  a  constitutional  susceptibility 
that  felt  even  the  moral  influence  of  the  atmosphere 
he  breathed,  and  of  the  natural  world,  to  whose 
beauty  and  loveliness  he  was  ever  alive. 

There  is  in  Channing's  intellect  a  certain  definite- 
ness ',  a  clearness,  a  transparency,  that  is. rarely  to  be 
found  in  authors  who  deal  so  largely  as  he  in  gen 
eralization.  This  is  a  conspicuous  trait.  Hence  the 
ease  with  which  he  is  followed  by  common  minds. 
The  uneducated  cannot  leave  his  pages  without  the 
conscious  feeling  that  they  have  gained  his  meaning. 
It  is  not  uncommon  to  meet  persons  who  strive  to 
grasp  the  universal,  and  in  the  attempt  fail  of  that 
directness  and  singleness  of  aim,  without  which, 
power  is  wasted.  Following  Channing,  the  reader 
is  never  lost  in  twilight  or  in  clouds.  Great  thoughts 
are  always  simply  expressed.  His  is  a  luminous 
page.  But  we  would  not  intimate  that  the  thorough 
comprehension  of  Channing  demands  any  thing  less 
than  a  ready  power  to  appreciate  great  moral  ideas, 
and  to  recognize  the  deepest  facts  of  experience  and 
consciousness.  The  mere  matter-of-fact  man,  who 
cares  only  for  details,  though  many  rays  may  enter 
his  mind  as  he  reads,  will  not  be  interested  like  one 
who  loves  to  trace  the  broad  expansions  of  truth 
into  the  wide  range  of  general  principles. 

Notwithstanding  the  obvious  definiteness  for  which 
7* 


/O  CHANNING. 

we  contend,  the  charge  of  mysticism,  or  a  tendency 
to  mysticism,  has  been  offered  by  one  or  two  of  his 
reviewers.  There  is  no  question,  we  think,  that  the 
mind  of  Channing,  like  all  great  minds,  tended  at 
times  to  pass  the  limits  of  the  known,  —  to  verge  on 
the  twilight  region  which  divides  the  day  from  the 
night,  the  known  from  the  unknown.  No  doubt 
such  a  mind  was  conscious  of  the  mysteries  of  being, 
of  the  dim  and  undefined  shadows  of  distant  truths 
passing  over  it.  Souls  of  divine  temper  have  long 
ings  after  the  Undefined  and  the  Unattained.  We 
grant,  that  here  and  there  is  an  expression  that  might 
intimate  a  fact  like  this, — a  plain  fact  of  inward  ex 
perience  to  which  the  soul  of  the  reader  may  respond ; 
but  we  deny,  that,  in  the  presentation,  he  ever  gives 
you  the  shadows  of  truth.  It  is  truth  itself,  un- 
embellished,  and  in  the  plainest  words.  When  we 
consider  the  order  of  topics  on  which  he  wrote,  — 
topics  that  turned  constantly  from  the  outward  to  the 
inward  life,  that  aimed  to  manifest  the  soul,  —  we 
should  have  held  his  writings  as  destitute  of  one 
principal  feature  of  excellence,  had  they  attempted 
to  lay  open  the  human  spirit  on  an  even  plain,  where 
all  its  powers  and  action  had  seemed  as  common  as 
the  hills  and  meadows  around  us. 

A  passage  like  the  following  has  been  thought  to 
border  somewhat  on  the  Platonic  mysticism  :  — 

"  We  believe  that  the  human  mind  is  akin  to  that 
intellectual  energy  which  gave  birth  to  nature,  and  con 
sequently  that  it  contains  within  itself  the  seminal  and 
prolific  principles  from  which  nature  sprung."  —  Octavo 
volume,  p.  189. 


CHANNING.  79 

Mysticism,  if  we  understand  it,  is  shadowy,  and  in 
a  degree  unintelligible.  But  is  not  this  sentence 
plain  ?  Does  not  the  common  belief,  that  God  is  the 
Parent  Mind,  through  whose  energy  the  universe 
was  framed,  and  that  the  soul  is  his  offspring  and 
son,  contain  all  that  this  view  expresses  ?  If  nature 
sprung  from  God,  and  if  man  is  his  son,  then  neces 
sarily  is  "  the  human  mind  akin  to  that  intellectual 
energy  which  gave  birth  to  nature  ;  and  consequently 
it  contains  within  itself  the  seminal  and  prolific  prin 
ciples  from  which  nature  sprung."  The  whole  view 
has  always  reposed  in  the  common  faith. 

If  placed  on  philosophical  grounds,  the  conclusion 
is  just  as  easy  and  intelligible.  For,  in  the  exam 
ination  of  nature,  man  is  conscious  that  the  same 
order  of  wisdom  and  love  that  the  earth  and  the 
heavens  reveal  he  possesses  within  the  range  of  his 
own  faculties.  How,  indeed,  should  man  recognize 
in  nature  a  divine  mind,  but  through  powers  similar 
to  those  which  nature  reveals  ?  In  the  possibility  of 
recognition,  therefore,  lies  the  induction  of  Chan- 
ning.  We  see  in  it  nothing  except  what  the  common 
belief  and  the  bonds  of  logic  fully  contain.  But  we 
are  aware  that  mysticism  has  better  meanings  than 
mere  unintelligibility ;  and,  whilst  the  soul  and  nature 
remain  so  full  of  the  undefined,  of  mystery,  of  the 
inexplicable,  greatness  of  intellect  will  be  doomed  to 
no  condescension  in  giving  a  various  expression 
to  this  fact  and  condition  of  being. 

In  England,  we  are  told  by  persons  who  have 
mingled  freely  with  the  middling  classes,  that  it 
was  not  uncommon  to  meet  those  who  felt  a  lively 


80  CHANNING, 

interest  in  his  writings,  and  whose  hopes  had  been 
upborne  by  his  powerful  faith  in  man.  Indeed,  what 
bright  fires  he  kindles  along  the  pathway  of  the  poor, 
the  oppressed,  the  unfortunate  !  Such  will  ever  un 
derstand  him,  at  least,  as  their  friend.  His  clearness 
of  style  is  but  the  evidence  of  the  same  attribute  of 
intellect ;  for  it  is  thence  that  style  chiefly  originates. 
The  freshness  and  spontaneity  of  his  communications 
bear  an  unpremeditated  character,  whilst  each  sen 
tence  and  thought  wears  the  completeness  of  ma 
turity.  This  union  of  spontaneity  and  matureness, 
of  definiteness  and  universality,  forms  another  in 
stance  of  the  union  of  apparent  opposites,  for  which 
the  character  of  Channing  appears  so  much  distin 
guished. 

We  should  say  that  the  intellect  of  Channing  was 
not  remarkable  for  its  merely  logical  processes  in 
arriving  at  truth.  At  least,  he  gives  you  the  results 
of  logic,  all  that  logic  may  gain  without  troubling 
you  with  the  processes ;  and  we  should  think  him 
not  very  much  accustomed  to  the  severe  labor  of 
purely  metaphysical  and  logical  thinking.  Follow 
ing  his  mind,  as  it  courses  on  with  the  clearness  and 
transparency  of  a  river,  it  is  difficult  to  think  of  the 
logician.  He  never  seemed  like  one  who  had  made 
reasoning  an  art,  but  as  one  who  had  thought  much, 
who  had  looked  on  every  side  of  the  subject  on 
which  he  treats,  who  has  ever  dealt  fairly  with  his 
own  mind,  who  has  never  turned  aside  to  party  pur 
poses,  and  whose  intellectual  life  was  continually 
enriched  and  ennobled  by  lofty  aims,  and  a  deep,  dis 
interested  love  of  truth.  It  is  one  of  his  traits  to 


CHANNING.  81 

0 

give  us  his  convictions,  and  often  without  telling  us 
how  he  came  to  them.  But  the  convictions  imply 
adequate  processes  causing  them ;  and,  whether  these 
belong  most  to  logic  or  intuition,  it  is  quite  certain 
that  they  are  able  to  stand  the  severest  wrestlings  of 
the  logical  faculty.  Our  infant  transcendentalism 
has  taught  us,  that  "  sinners  reason,"  whilst  "  saints 
behold."  *  We  admit  that  the  logician  is  far  less 
than  the  philosopher  ;  far  less,  indeed,  than  the  mind 
which,  as  by  instinct,  seems  to  seize  on  great  and 
inspiring  truths.  We  concede  that  there  are  minds 
which  act  above  mere  logic ;  but  we  deny  that  they 
act  against  it.  Truth  can  have  no  war  with  fair 
logical  effort.  How  far  the  mind  of  Channing  par 
took  of  the  logical,  and  how  far  of  the  intuitive,  we 
pretend  not  to  say ;  but  certainly  not  enough  of  the 
former  to  give  character  to  the  man.  His  intellect 
seldom  appears  to  act  alone.  The  soul  speaks.  The 
heart  and  the  reason  blend.  The  prophet  mind  and 
voice  are  his.  Perhaps  Coleridge  has  best  said  what 
should  be  believed  on  this  subject,  when,  alluding  to 
Channing,  he  remarked,  "  If  you  will  excuse  a  play 
on  words  in  speaking  of  such'  a  man,  I  will  say  that 
Mr.  Channing  is  a  philosopher  in  both  the  possible 
renderings  of  the  word.  He  has  the  love  of  wisdom, 
and  the  wisdom  of  love."f  He  who  writes  from 
but  one  faculty-  in  himself  can  move  but  one  in 
others.  He  who  writes  from  all,  moves  all.  Give 
us  life ! 

*  The  Dial.  —  Orphic  Sayings. 
t  Letter  to  Washington  Allston,  vol.  ii.  p.  219. 


82  CHANNING. 

The  love  of  beauty,  of  nature,  is  clearly  one  of 
his  intellectual  traits.  This  element  unconsciously 
flows  through  all  his  speech,  and  contributes  freely 
to  his  freshness,  purity,  and  elegance  of  thought  and 
style.  No  abstraction  or  introversial  tendency  ever 
diminished  the  liveliness  of  his  sensibility  and  joy  in 
the  scenes  of  the  material  world.  Believing  in  the 
harmony  of  the  mental  and  material  Avorlds,  he  would 
enjoy  each  in  unison.  The  beauty  that  early  inspired 
him  on  his  native  island;  the  devotional  delight 
yielded  by  the  scenes  among  which  he  rambled  in 
Old  Virginia,  when  life  was  young  and  its  fire  un 
abated  ;  the  chaste  description  of  natural  scenery 
among  the  lakes  and  mountains  of  England;  the 
observations  made  on  the  various  beauty  of  the 
ocean,  and  on  the  matchless  forms  of  sublimity  in 
Switzerland,  instruct  us  that  a  poetic  element  lived 
in  his  soul,  that  the  varied  beauties  of  the  universe 
were  near  his  heart.  Particularly  does  it  strike 
us,  that  Channing  was,  as  few  persons  are,  alive  to 
the  sublime.  Power,  speaking  through  the  vast 
forms  of  nature,  awoke  a  kindred  power  in  his  own 
breast.  From  the  breast  of  the  ocean  he  thus 
speaks :  — 

"  The  soul  and  nature  are  attuned  together.  Some 
thing  within  answers  to  all  we  witness  without.  When 
I  look  on  the  ocean  in  its  might  and  tumult,  my  spirit  is 
stirred,  swelled.  When  it  spreads  out  in  peaceful  blue 
waves,  under  a  bright  sky,  it  is  dilated,  yet  composed. 
I  enter  into  the  spirit  of  the  earth,  and  this  is  always 
good.  Nature  breathes  nothing  unkind.  It  expands  or 


CHANNING.  OO 

calms  or  softens  us.  Let  us  open  our  souls  to  its  influ 
ences. 

"  The  ocean  is  said  to  rage,  but  never  so  to  me.  I  see 
life,  joy,  in  its  wild  billows,  rather  than  rage.  It  is  full 
of  spirit,  eagerness.  In  a  storm,  we  are  not  free  to  look 
at  the  ocean  as  an  object  of  sentiment.  Danger  then 
locks  up  the  soul  to  its  true  influence.  At  a  distance 
from  it,  we  might  contemplate  it  as  a  solemn  minister  of 
divine  justice,  and  witness  of  God's  power  to  a  thought 
less  world ;  but  we  could  associate  with  it  only  moral 
ideas,  not  a  blind  rage.  At  least,  I  have  seen  nothing 
which  gives  nature  an  unkind  expression. 

"  We  talk  of  old  ocean,  hoary  ocean  :  I  cannot  associate 
age  with  it.  It  is  too  buoyant,  animated,  living.  Its  crest 
of  foam  is  not  hoariness,  but  the  breaking  forth  of  life. 
Ocean  is  perpetual  youth."  —  Memoirs,  vol.  ii.  p.  203. 

From  the  regions  of  the  Alps,  he  said,  — 

"  Do  you  not  envy  me  the  beautiful,  magnificent  sce 
nery  which  is  now  stretching  around  me  ?  I  shall  never 
forget  the  day  I  spent  at  Berne.  It  was  Sunday,  and  in 
the  afternoon,  under  a  most  brilliant  sky,  I  walked  on  the 
ramparts,  and  hailed  with  joy,  as  old  friends,  the  moun 
tains  in  the  horizon  which  I  had  visited  a  few  days  before. 
All  that  nature  can  do  to  lift  us  above  the  sordid  is  done 
in  Switzerland ;  and  who  can  doubt,  that,  where  there  is 
a  deep  purpose  in  the  soul  to  elevate  itself,  much  aid  may 
be  derived  from  the  sublimity  of  the  external  world  ?  .  .  . 
It  is  worth  no  little  suffering  to  cross  the  Wingern  Alp, 

and  scale  the  Grimsel.     I  had  strength  for  neither 

This  country  has  inspired  me.     I  grew  better  almost  as 

soon  as  I  entered  it."  —  p.  221. 

i*  {f  *•*•••  Stns.'j  v  Jon 

But  examples  of  the  mild  enthusiasm  kindled  in 


84  CHANNING. 

his  mind  by  the  beautiful  are  perhaps  unnecessary, 
since  the  flow  of  his  words  and  thoughts  seem  to 
murmur  of  this  as  their  fountain ;  whilst  some  of  the 
best  metaphysical  views,  yielded  by  this  mysterious 
attribute,  are  found  in  different  parts  of  his  writings, 
without  any  intention,   however,   of  discussing  its 
qualities.     But  it  is  chiefly  a  moral  beauty  that  he 
extracts  from  nature ;  and  we  may  suppose  that  a 
mind,  drawing  so  much  from  its  own  resources,  and 
rising  so  constantly  above  the  outward  fact  and  its 
natural  impression,  must  have  found  its  chief  ma 
terials  of  enjoyment  in  the  invisible  sanctuary  of  the 
spirit.     One  historical  fact  speaks  a  volume  on  this 
branch  of  our  subject,  namely,  the  new  epoch  which 
the  beauty  and  sublimity  of  surrounding  scenes  in 
his  native  Rhode  Island  opened  in  his  mind.*     That 
beauty  and  that  sublimity  could  never  have  created 
the  epoch  his  history  records,  but  for  an  inner  fact  of 
the  beautiful  pervading  the  soul ;  for  thousands  were 
amidst  it  at  different  times,  without  ever  being  con 
scious  of  a  work  going  on  within  them,  forming  a 
new  era  in  their   moral   and   intellectual   develop 
ment. 

We  proceed  to  consider  briefly  the  claims  of  Dr. 
Channing  to  Originality, — a  power,  above  all  others, 
the  rarest  to  be  found.  Still,  we  properly  demand 
its  presence,  before  we  accord  to  any  one  the  highest 
order  of  greatness.  But  what  is  originality  ?  Is  it 
the  causation  of  truth  ?  No  :  for  truth  is  uncaused  ; 
and  no  idea  can  be  formed,  for  which  the  materials  do 
not  previously  exist.  Originality,  therefore,  belongs 

*  Channing's  Works,  yol.  iv.  p.  337. 


CHANNING. 


only  to  three  forms  or  modes  of  influence,  namely, 
discovery,  combination,  and  expression. 

In  the  first  of  these,  discovery,  there  are  but  few 
claims  to  be  asserted  by  any  who  take  the  mind  for 
their  field  of  speculation.  Some,  who  have  supposed 
that  new  light  on  the  intellectual  and  moral  philo 
sophy  of  man  has  appeared  to  them,  have  been 
mortified  and  surprised  to  find  their  original  views 
in  Plato,  or  in  other  teachers  whose  light,  thousands 
of  years  ago,  may  have  fallen  on  India,  Palestine, 
Greece,  or  Italy.  Coleridge  said,  that,  for  very  many 
centuries,  it  has  been  difficult  to  advance  a  new  truth, 
or  even  a  new  error,  in  the  philosophy  of  the  intellect 
or  morals.  It  is  not,  therefore,  in  the  department 
of  discovery,  that  we  look  for  originality  in  an  author 
like  Channing. 

The  originality  of  nature  is  not  the  production  of 
new  elements,  but  the  various  combination  of  those 
that  have  always  existed.  Rock,  tree,  air,  and 
ocean,  tell  you  this.  A  few  elements  are  thus  com 
bined  into  an  immeasurable  universe  ;  as  a  feAv  great 
principles  may,  under  the  control  of  moral  genius, 
enter  into  many  discourses,  into  the  most  extensive 
theory.  Here  is  the  great  work  of  genius,  so  to  use 
what  all  men  know,  as  to  bring  them  to  new  and 
important  views,  to  quicken  thought,  to  liberate  men 
from  error,  to  awaken  the  full  power  of  their  own 
minds.  Here  Channing  was  in  no  ordinary  degree 
original.  Nowhere  else  do  you  find  such  a  com 
bination  of  thought.  Every  article  is  marked  by  the 
individuality  of  the  writer.  The  reading  public 
might  know  an  essay  of  his  almost  as  well  without 
8 


86  CHANNING. 

his  name  as  with  it,  —  the  character  of  his  mind  being 
so  strongly  impressed  on  all  his  themes.  Who  can 
read  in  his  literature  the  least  homage  to  a  master  ? 
Where  is  the  slightest  tinge  of  conscious  or  even 
unconscious  imitation  ?  These  cannot  be  found. 
The  highest  power,  we  know,  usually  exhibits  itself 
in  original  forms  and  processes  :  still  it  is  not  difficult 
to  find  very  strong  men,  Avho  bear  plain  marks  of 
the  formative  influence  of  revered  authors.  There 
is  a  certain  quickening  energy,  which  we  find  it 
difficult  to  describe,  that  distinguishes  creative  minds ; 
and  it  is  the  fulness  of  this  that  pervades  the  literature 
of  Channing.  The  plot  of  his  subject  is  usually  wide 
and  striking,  whilst  the  common  theme  becomes  new 
in  his  hands.  The  common  truth  yields  a  new  light, 
as  it  is  brought  into  a  higher  service  and  connection 
than  we  were  wont  to  view  it ;  whilst  the  suddenness 
with  which  the  unexpected  ray  frequently  emanates 
and  illumines,  awakens  exquisite  delight.  In  expres 
sion,  which  is  nearly  half  of  a  writer's  power,  the 
same  evidence  appears.  Nowhere  else  do  you  meet 
his  style.  It  is  clear  as  crystal,  full  of  the  beauty 
and  force  of  the  writer's  mind.  It  is  the  fresh  crea 
tion  of  an  original  spirit,  marked  by  power  full  and 
wide,  flowing  beneath  the  calmness  of  a  graceful 
simplicity  and  ease.  We  refer  to  originality  of  style, 
however,  only  as  an  intimation  of  originality  of  intel 
lect  ;  for  the  law  of  writing,  as  well  as  of  speech, 
gives  to  language  the  leading  characteristics  of  the 
mind  that  frames  it. 

We  have  spoken  of  originality  as  a  rare  endow 
ment  ;  nor  is  the  pulpit  perhaps  its  most  general  and 


CHANNING.  87 

favorite  resort.  When  it  does  appear,  it  is  sometimes 
marred  by  eccentricity.  But  in  more  perfect  minds  it 
is  a  harmonious  fountain,  a  consistent  action  of  all  the 
faculties.  Whatever  Channing  may  have  received 
from  abroad,  —  and  we  imagine  that  he  received 
much ;  for  to  every  good  influence  of  nature  and 
life  he  opened  his  generous  embrace,  —  whatever, 
we  say,  he  received  from  abroad,  was  so  thoroughly 
transformed  as  to  become  a  new  life.  The  spirit  of 
Channing  is  eminently  creative,  eminently  original. 
He  was  a  new  man  in  the  world. 

His  power  was  marked  by  calmness.  Perhaps 
this  is  its  principal  trait.  And  two  inductions  equally 
logical  repose  in  this  fact ;  namely,  the  high  quality 
of  his  mental  agency,  and  the  difficulty  of  an  imme 
diate  popular  appreciation  equal  to  the  power  and 
goodness  possessed.  The  deepest  spiritual  energy 
works  in  calmness,  somewhat  as  the  workings  of 
omnipotence  in  nature  are  mostly  calm  and  silent. 
The  power  that  bids  the  plant  become  a  tree,  and 
the  worlds  to  revolve  in  their  orbits,  is  wholly  un 
heard.  But  nature  is  not  all  calmness.  There  are 
thunders,  lightnings,  storms,  and  cataracts,  that  occu 
py  a  necessary  place  in  the  great  whole.  Still,  storms 
are  transient,  and  cataracts  are  few ;  whilst  nature,  in 
perfect  mildness,  does  her  perfect  work.  The  mind 
of  Charming  never  becomes  a  cataract,  never  a  roar 
ing  sea,  but  goes  forth  in  a  full  and  an  even  strength. 
It  is  slow  that  "  worlds  get  grown,  that  solar  systems 
get  formed."  The  great  and  the  deep  power  thus 
works.  Through  this  feature  of  calmness,  we  see 
the  intellect  of  Channing ;  for  it  always  wrought  in 


CHANNING. 


this  strong  and  quiet  way.  But  this  fact  forbids  us  to 
think  that  he  is  adequately  appreciated  ;  for  observa 
tion  forces  upon  us  the  belief,  that  the  world  is  more 
slowly  reached  by  the  highest  quality  of  influence ; 
that  its  ear  is  more  readily  won  by  dazzling  and 
noisy  exhibitions  of  power.  If,  however,  it  requires 
longer  time  for  a  man  thus  characterized  to  be  fully 
known  by  the  world,  when  known,  his  hold  upon  it 
is  more  permanent  and  lasting. 

In  the  course  of  our  reflections,  we  have  asked, 
Which  is  greater,  the  analysis  or  the  synthesis  of 
Channing's  mind  ?  And  it  is  difficult  to  say,  to  which 
he  most  inclines ;  for  both  appear  in  quite  equal  pro 
portion.  It  is  plain  that  the  most  common  as  well  as 
the  more  elevated  truth  was  closely  questioned, 
was  well  analyzed.  Hence,  in  the  simplest  utter 
ances,  it  is  difficult  to  find  the  commonplace.  In  the 
simplest  sentences,  there  is  an  exactness  of  meaning, 
a  perfect  fitness  of  words,  which  intimates  that  they 
were  preceded  by  a  questioning,  analyzing  genius, 
that  gave  to  these  simple  utterances  their  thoughtful 
freshness.  In  touching  the  scenery  of  Switzerland, 
of  Grassmere,  of  the  sea,  the  beauty  expressed  bears 
the  clear  marks  that  its  forms  were  analytically 
viewed. 

It  has  been  said,  that  Dr.  Channing  sometimes 
nearly  exhausted  his  friends  by  questions,  calling 
out  their  knowledge  in  the  most  definite  form,  and  to 
a  thorough  extent.  It  was  somewhat  in  this  style 
that  he  dealt  with  subjects.  From  his  diary,  contain 
ing  various  rules  of  self-discipline,  we  take  the  fol 
lowing  :  — . 


CHANNING.  89 

"  I  should  constantly  have  some  end  in  view  in  think 
ing.  My  thoughts  should  be  arranged :  there  should  be 
some  directing  principle  for  them.  A  passive  mind  rests  v 
in  the  perception  of  an  object.  The  active  mind  requires 
for  its  use,  cause,  consequences,  relations,  signification, 
past  state,  tendency,  changes.  Every  thing  has  innumera 
ble  connections  and  dependencies.  These  are  the  objects 
of  thought.  In  connecting  with  a  thing  all  that  belongs 
to  it,  we  become  acquainted  with  it.  This  thorough 
acquaintance  with  all  objects  of  perception  is  what  we 
should  propose." 

It  cannot  be  pretended,  that  the  profoundest  ana 
lysis  is  always  exhibited  in  the  discussion  of  every 
subject,  or  that  he  always  gives  you  the  deepest 
possible  reason  for  what  he  believes ;  but  his  topic  is 
usually  so  treated  as  to  imply  far  more  analysis  in 
the  writer's  mind  than  is  ostensibly  manifest  on  the 
surface  of  the  presentation.  We  are  informed  of  the 
processes  that  reading  him  awaken  in  the  reflective ; 
and,  from  the  nature  of  these,  together  with  the  clear 
and  definite  light  that  shines  from  each  part  of  his 
subject,  the  most  moderate  inference  the  truth  will 
warrant  is,  that  the  analytical  faculties  of  Chan- 
ning's  mind  were  accurate  and  strong,  yet  so  much 
relieved  by  the  life  of  the  affections  and  of  the  imagi 
nation,  as  scarcely  to  convict  the  reader  of  their 
severe  and  patient  action. 

But  the  synthesis,  the  bringing  together  of  many 
rays  into  one  light,  the  clear  and  steady  advance  from 
given  principles  to  great  conclusions,  —  this  stands 
out  in  bolder  relief  than  the  other,  although  we  are 
not  sure  of  its  actual  ascendency  over  it.  We  say 
8* 


90  CHANNING. 

the  steady  advance  ;  though  at  times  the  conclusion 
springs  so  suddenly  from  the  admitted  premises  as 
to  convince  us  of  an  intuitive  logic  in  the  reasoner, 
requiring  another  word  for  its  expression.  We 
choose  to  leave  these  points  to  the  unbiased  judgment 
of  our  readers,  some  of  whom  may  think  differently 
on  the  equal  fulness  of  these  opposing  traits. 

The  power  to  rise  above  the  facts  of  observation 
to  higher  analogical  facts,  the  tendency  to  dwell  on 
the  general  ideas  and  principles  which  the  facts  of 
observation  suggest  as  above  themselves,  and  the 
ability  to  see  and  the  disposition  to  fasten  on  the  laws 
which  pervade  the  phenomenal  facts  of  nature  and 
experience,  strongly  distinguish  the  intellect  of  Chan- 
ning.  Therefore  he  could  never  have  been  a  great 
historian,  in  the  sense  in  which  the  world  has  too 
long  understood  the  vocation  of  history.  He  could 
not,  without  violence  to  his  mind,  have  remained 
long  in  the  mere  series  of  events,  names,  dates,  and 
changes,  which  are  mostly  the  substance  of  what 
we  have  been  accustomed  to  call  history.  Pa 
tience  might  be  wanting  for  this.  But  he  had  all  the 
elements  for  giving  you  a  nation's  life,  a  nation's 
character  and  spirit,  using  the  details  of  external 
development  as  wholly  subservient  to  this.  Neither 
could  he  write  a  review  like  Macaulay,  with  the 
same  ground-work  of  particular  facts ;  but,  without 
neglecting  these,  he  could  present  you  higher  views, 
and  give  you  as  truly  the  real  character  and  life  he 
undertakes  to  unfold.  We  will  venture  to  say,  that, 
in  his  most  objectionable  review,  the  review  of  Bona 
parte,  his  remarks  on  power,  its  different  kinds  and 


CHANNING.  91 

Vises,  are  an  expression  of  greater  thoughts  than  you 
will  meet  in  any  of  the  articles  of  the  gifted  English 
Reviewer.  But  you  may  say  that  these  are  moral 
thoughts.  So  they  are.  Still  they  are  thoughts,  and 
the  prefixing  of  this  adjective  cannot  take  away  their 
greatness.  Is  not  all  life  moral  ?  Is  not  nature 
moral  ?  Is  the  intellect  less  purely  intellect  when 
acting  for  the  moral,  than  when  acting  without  it  or 
against  it  ?  But  let  us  not  here  open  a  chapter  of 
contrasts.  - 

The  great  characteristic  of  Channing's  mind,  the 
one  that  includes  all  others,  is  the  unity  of  his  men 
tal  powers.  His  is  an  even  strength.  There  was 
a  fine  balance  of  the  various  parts,  an  absence  of 
irregular  and  projecting  points.  Herein  lies  the 
secret  of  true  greatness.  It  is  not  difficult  to  find 
great  talent  anywhere.  But  the  rarest  thing  on 
earth  is  to  find  a  strong  man  who  is  not  so  deficient 
in  certain  parts  as  to  offend  your  idea  of  greatness. 
As  in  every  perfect  form  there  is  a  balance  of  parts, 
in  the  tree  and  in  the  noble  personal  form,  so  there 
is  a  total  harmony  of  faculties  in  all  who  represent 
the  most  perfect  greatness. 

The  progress  of  such  men  is  marked  by  consisten 
cy.  The  epochs  which  form  their  history  are,  more 
than  others,  like  the  seasons  in  their  accordance  to 
each  other.  In  the  growths  of  nature,  there  are  no 
contradictions.  The  last  stage  is  in  harmony  with  the 
first.  In  the  progress  of  Channing's  mind,  there  are 
no  remarkable  turnings  from  darkness  to  light,  no 
wholesale  renunciation  of  old  opinions,  no  great  war 
between  any  two  mental  states.  This  consistency, 


92  CHANNING. 

however,  between  the  different  periods  of  progress  is 
but  one  of  the  revealing  evidences  of  the  unity  we 
have  named. 

Another  of  its  manifestations  may  be  discovered  in 
a  consistency  of  views.  It  is  only  the  well-balanced 
mind  that  looks  on  all  sides  of  a  subject,  that  hear 
kens  to  every  argument  and  objection  that  may  arise 
before  it  decides  and  takes  a  final  stand ;  and  it  is 
only  such  minds  that  so  discover  the  great  principles 
and  all  their  distant  leadings,  involved  in  an  important 
question,  as  to  take  such  grounds  as  will  not  be  likely 
to  receive  the  condemnation  of  the  light  of  future 
years.  There  is  doubtless  a  tendency  in  most  minds 
to  realize  unity  in  their  views ;  but  it  is  not  uncom 
mon  for  gifted  and  enlightened  persons  to  express 
sentiments  at  one  time  which  are,  indirectly  at  least, 
contravened  by  those  they  utter  at  another.  Changes 
are  implied  in  progress.  And  those  which  cause  us 
to  contradict  our  former  selves  are  noble  also,  when 
prompted  by  reason  and  conscience ;  but  what  we 
allege  is  this,  that  contradictory  changes  evince 
weakness  somewhere  :  a  side  view  of  truth  has  been 
taken ;  fractions,  and  not  units,  have  been  considered ; 
the  subject  has  not  been  studied  as  a  whole,  and 
known  in  its  connections  with  other  subjects,  and  in 
its  harmony  with  all  known  truths.  We  claim  that 
Dr.  Channing  was  remarkable  for  this  habit  of  looking 
on  every  side  of  a  subject,  of  examining  all  objec 
tions,  of  weighing  all  opposing  reasons,  and  of 
knowing  the  accordance  of  his  position  with  all 
the  truth  he  knew,  before  he  took  his  stand,  and 
announced  his  belief.  Hence  the  unity  of  his  views. 


CHANNING.  yd 

Wide  was  the  range  of  his  themes.  Various  were 
the  occasions  and  purposes  that  called  forth  his 
intellectual  efforts.  And  yet  would  it  not  be  diffi 
cult  to  select  from  all  his  reviews,  sermons,  essays, 
lectures,  and  letters,  any  two  opinions  and  senti 
ments  that  oppose  and  destroy  each  other  ?  We 
know  it  is  a  small  thing  for  the  noblest  mind  to  be 
in  some  of  its  states  at  variance  with  itself,  for  the 
mightiest  are  frail  and  erring ;  but  we  still  aver  that 
the  more  perfect  a  mind  is  in  the  balance  and  har 
mony  of  all  its  powers,  the  more  it  resembles  Him  in 
Avhom  contradictions  are  impossible,  the  more  accor 
dant  are  its  eras  of  progress,  and  the  more  unity  will 
prevail  through  the  variety  of  its  decisions  and  views. 
Channing  is  singularly  self-consistent,  and  that,  it 
would  seem,  without  aiming  at  such  consistency. 

We  are  amused  and  edified  by  late  writers,  who 
plead  for  the  now  ;  who  tell  us  to  speak  "  the  thoughts 
of  to-day,  in  words  as  hard  as  cannon-balls, "  even 
though  they  contradict  every  thought,  deed,  and  ut 
terance  of  yesterday.  There  is  a  truth,  doubtless,  at 
the  bottom  of  this  plea ;  but  would  it  not  be  well  to 
distinguish  between  the  impulse  of  to-day  and  the 
thought  of  to-day  ?  For  the  one  too  often  passes 
for  the  other.  So  far  as  our  yesterday  was  right 
and  true,  so  far  our  to-day  will  confirm  it ;  else  it, 
too,  must  be  repented.  Yesterday,  to-day,  and  to 
morrow,  will  be  accordant  in  the  same  proportion  as 
they  flow  from  the  mind's  unity,  in  the  same  degree 
as  all  parts  of  subjects  are  penetrated  thoroughly  and 
justly  while  the  opinions  are  being  formed. 

But  the  conscious  harmony  of  Channing's  mind 


94  CHANNING. 

appears  in  that  tendency  which  sought  to  reveal  the 
agreement  between  Nature,  Providence,  and  Chris 
tianity.  He  never  separated  religious  truth  from  the 
universe  of  truth.  In  the  Christian  miracles  he 
believed,  not  on  the  ground,  however,  that  they  con 
tradicted  nature,  but  that,  in  spirit  and  design,  they 
were  one  with  nature ;  that,  as  confirmations  of  Chris 
tianity,  they  operated  to  carry  forward  the  mind  in 
union  Avith  the  whole  ministry  of  the  natural.  Every 
where  in  Channing  do  you  meet  this  wide  tendency 
to  harmonize  in  human  faith  the  facts  of  outward  na 
ture,  the  soul,  the  course  of  providence,  and  the  great 
ideas  of  Christianity.  He  took  a  truth  of  revelation, 
as  for  instance  the  paternal  character  of  God,  or  the 
solemn  retributive  law  there  announced,  and  never 
left  it  till  its  verity  was  traced  through  the  wide  range 
of  nature  and  experience,  and  echoed  back  from  the 
deeps  and  the  heights  of  the  universe.  This  to  us  is 
a  great  proof  of  the  position  assumed ;  as  is  the 
development  of  the  view,  pervading  all  his  sacred 
literature,  of  the  agreement  of  all  God's  voices  heard 
through  his  various  mediums  of  self-manifestation. 
The  harmony  among  our  inward  powers  to  be  sought 
in  religion  bears  the  same  way.  He  sought  the  union 
of  the  intellect  and  the  heart  in  worship  and  in  faith, 
that  devotion  might  have  the  sanction  and  support  of 
the  whole  soul,  that  the  intellectual  powers  might 
give  illumination  and  vigor  to  faith.  In  such  par 
ticulars  as  these,  and  in  the  justice  with  which  he 
treats  all  subjects,  is  discoverable  a  balance  of  mind 
rarely  to  be  found  in  other  men. 

We  have  elsewhere  spoken  of  the  uninterrupted 


CHANNING. 


95 


tendency  of  Channing's  intellect  to  expand  into  the 
universal.  So  conscious  was  he  of  this,  that  he 
regarded  his  duty  to  mankind  to  consist  in  faithfully 
setting  forth  those  great  and  universal  truths  which 
deeply  enter  into  the  problem  of  human  happiness, 
and  by  which  the  reformation  and  salvation  of  society 
are  to  occur.  In  several  passages  this  consciousness 
is  expressed.  To  the  universal  in  philosophy,  mo 
rals,  and  religion,  he  applied  his  mind.  And,  if  true 
greatness  exists  anywhere,  it  cannot  be  denied  that 
it  belongs  to  universal  truths,  to  the  unchangeable 
and  all-pervading  laws  and  elements  of  matter  and 
mind,  of  wisdom  and  virtue.  It  lies  not  in  the  local 
and  the  transient.  And  he  who,  by  natural  and 
constant  aspiration,  holds  continued  fellowship  and 
intimacy  with  the  universal  in  man,  nature,  and  life, 
offers  the  clearest  evidence  of  having  a  mind  related 
to  the  greatness  he  sees,  loves,  and  unfolds.  We 
read  in  this  fact,  not  only  the  intellectual  expansion 
for  which  his  writings  are  marked,  but  we  see  also 
the  quality  of  his  powers.  The  correspondence  be 
tween  the  calm  agency  of  his  own  mind,  and  the 
mild  action  of  the  universal  to  which  he  was  at 
tached,  is  strikingly  beautiful;  and,  if  we  would 
extend  it  a  moment,  it  would  bring  us  the  thought, 
that  all  such  agencies  are  for  the  day  more  unob 
served  than  the  merely  temporary  announcing  itself 
with  trumpets.  But  as  the  sun  and  stars  overlook 
the  ages ;  as  they  appear  in  uniform  splendor,  when 
the  local  storms  are  passed,  and  their  thunders  are 
hushed  ;  so  he  who  lives  and  speaks  from  the  univer 
sal,  sheds  his  radiance  on  the  world,  like  the  fixed 


96  CHANNING. 

and  steady  lights  of  heaven,  when  the  memory  of  the 
local  spirit  is  forgotten,  and  the  foaming,  crested 
waves  of  passionate  excitement  have  broken  and 
died  upon  the  shore. 

We  have  endeavored,  thus  far,  to  present  Dr. 
Channing  in  the  principal  traits  of  his  character.  We 
have  noticed,  though  imperfectly,  what  to  us  is  most 
striking  among  his  intellectual  and  moral  traits.  We 
would  now  offer  a  few  remarks  on  the  proportion  of 
the  former  to  the  latter,  in  which  the  secret  of  his 
power  appears. 

There  is  a  distinction  too  little  made  in  psycho 
logical  reasoning,  that  strikes  us  as  very  necessary 
and  practical,  which  is  the  real  difference  of  superior 
minds  in  the  QUALITY  as  well  as  in  the  quantity  of 
their  powers.  There  is  a  finer  and  firmer  fibre  in 
some  minds  than  in  others.  In  mere  quantity  of 
powers,  you  may  find  several  equals  and  some  supe 
riors  to  Dr.  Channing.  But,  when  quality  of  mind 
is  considered,  you  will  rarely  find  his  equal,  either 
in  the  past  or  the  present.  Seldom,  very  seldom, 
may  one  be  found  from  whom  emanates  so  high  an 
order  of  influence.  This  distinction  should  never  be 
forgotten  in  comparing  Channing  with  most  others 
who  have  great  mental  energy.  For  this  is  his  prin 
cipal  distinction  from  such  minds. 

Overlooking  this  view,  some  resolve  the  secret  of 
his  success  into  an  enormous  moral  development, 
into  mere  faith  and  conscience  ;  and  have  left  with 
us  the  conclusion,  that,  with  an  intellect  bordering 
but  slightly  on  the  super-ordinary,  these  inspiring 
moral  traits  may  achieve  sublimest  wonders.  We 


CHANNING.  97 

would  not  undertake  to  advocate  the  extraordinary 
character  of  Channing's  mind,  it  being  ill  suited  to 
the  plainness  of  the  evidence  on  which  his  fame  so 
justly  rests.  But,  as  a  matter  of  speculative  interest 
wholly,  we  would  ask,  how  are  faith  and  conscience 
to  move  mankind  on  the  highest  topics  of  thought, 
and  on  the  greatest  questions  of  human  interest,  in  the 
calmest  manner,  but  through  the  agency  of  intellect  ? 
Must  not  every  heart  be  reached  through  the  mind  ? 
What  is  the  essay  on  Milton,  the  treatise  on  Calvin 
ism,  and  some  early  doctrinal  sermons,  but  severe 
labors  of  intellect  ?  And  these  are  still  the  strong 
monuments  of  his  power.  That  ordinary  talent  may 
produce  great  temporary  effects,  when  moved  by  an 
excessive  action  of  moral  feeling,  we  know ;  but  to 
penetrate  the  soul  in  its  calmest  moments,  to  influ 
ence  the  soundest  parts  of  society  on  great  topics 
more  deeply  than  they  had  been  influenced  before, 
with  no  appeal  to  passion,  demands  intellect  of  the 
highest  quality.  Properly  speaking,  a  great  faith  — 
that  is  to  say,  faith  in  the  vast  designs  and  agency  of 
God,  faith  in  human  nature,  and  in  the  boundless 
sweep  of  providence  —  asks  a  wide  scope  of  vision, 
and  usually  implies  it.  The  hold  which  Channing 
has  on  the  human  mind  cannot  be  accounted  for  by 
education,  for  he  was  not  the  best  scholar  ;  nor  by 
the  fulness  of  moral  sentiment  ajone.  Reason  de 
mands  the  concession,  that  in  him  was  an  intellect 
most  extraordinary  for  the  unity  and  quality  of  its 
powers,  fertilized  and  ennobled  by  the  influence  of 
a  spiritual  life,  which,  for  beauty  and  power,  it  is 
difficult  to  equal  from  the  best  examples.  Indeed, 


98  CHANNING. 

to  fall  short  of  this  concession  is  to  break  the  unity, 
naturalness,  and  beauty  of  his  mind.  We  cannot 
love  the  monstrous,  even  though  it  wear  the  halo  of 
a  reputed  saint. 

Webster,  with  colossal  brow,  and  lion-like  look 
of  power,  at  once  impresses  you  as  one  in  whom 
there  lives  the  vast  amount  of  energy,  as  one  in 
whom  nature  has  invested  her  might.  But,  in  this 
impression  of  vast  mental  vigor,  there  is  not  the 
idea  of  a  man  whose  constant  home  is  universal 
truth,  whose  nature  is  exquisitely  alive  to  the  beauty 
and  concord  of  the  universe,  and  to  the  perfection 
of  the  soul,  as  when  you  come  near  to  Channing. 
Where  goodness  predominates  in  any  character,  it 
is  not  so  natural  to  think  about  the  talents.  Talents 
are  first  in  the  association  of  ideas,  when  every 
thing  else  is  second  to  them,  when  there  is  nothing 
but  talents  to  admire.  Probably,  it  is  the  good 
man  we  think  of,  when  Channing's  name  is  men 
tioned  ;  which  is  so  prominent  in  the  conception  of 
his  greatness,  as  not  to  render  the  idea  of  intellect 
as  impressive  as  if  it  stood  alone,  the  principal  power 
to  be  seen,  and  unshaded  by  the  grandeur  of  moral 
attributes.  Though  we  would  never  compare  the 
human  to  the  divine  except  for  the  purpose  of  illus 
tration,  we  would  say,  that  the  celestial  towering  of 
this  idea  of  goodness,  in  the  conception  of  Jesus,  is 
so  great  that  mere  intellect  is  scarcely  thought  of. 
Thus,  in  the  enlightened  mind,  the  idea  of  God 
springs  up  as  of  the  Father,  the  Preserver,  the  Friend, 
the  All-perfect ;  whilst  the  infinity  of  intellect  comes 
in  as  second  to  this.  But  is  intellect  less  for  the 


CHANNING.  99 

grandeur  and  presence  of  moral  attributes  ?  Some 
what  in  the  spirit  of  these  remarks,  Coleridge,  speak 
ing  of  Charming,  said,  "  His  affection  for  the  good  as 
the  good,  and  his  earnestness  for  the  true  as  the  true, 
with  that  harmonious  subordination  of  the  latter  to 
the  former,  without  encroachment  on  the  absolute 
worth  of  either,  present  in  him  a  character  which  in 
my  heart's  heart  I  believe  to  be  the  very  rarest  on 
earth."  In  quantity  of  intellect,  Webster  surpasses 
Channing.  But  in  quality  of  mind,  he  surpasses 
Webster ;  and  it  would  not  be  difficult  to  verify  the 
position,  that  he  has  communicated  greater  thoughts, 
and  has  influenced  the  human  mind  more  deeply, 
more  extensively  and  nobly,  than  the  great  and 
gifted  statesman  has  done. 

The  first  thing  to  be  asked  in  ascertaining  the 
mental  character  of  an  author  is,  What  are  his 
themes  ?  For  men  choose  the  subjects  on  which 
they  love  to  think ;  and  these  reflect  the  order  of 
mind.  The  correspondence  between  Channing  and 
his  subjects  is  worthy  of  a  thought.  No  man  ever 
wrote  on  a  higher  order  of  themes.  The  unity,  per 
fection,  and  paternity  of  God  ;  the  nature,  relations, 
and  duties  of  man;  the  elevation,  worth,  and  im 
provement  of  the  soul ;  the  accordance  of  revelation 
with  nature  and  reason ;  education,  freedom ;  the 
duty,  interest,  glory  of  the  nation  and  state  ;  —  these 
are  themes  which  in  true  moral  grandeur  are  not  to 
be  surpassed.  Arid  when  it  is  remembered,  that 
Channing  did  not  rise  to  topics  like  these,  but  laid 
his  hand  upon  them,  with  all  the  naturalness  and  ease 
that  a  child  plucks  the  flowers  along  his  path ;  and 


100  CHANNING. 

when  it  is  remembered,  that,  in  their  discussion,  great 
and  universal  principles  caine  into  his  discourse,  as 
naturally  as  the  various  verdure  greets  the  breath  of 
spring,  it  seems  that  stupidity  itself  must  behold  the 
shining  proof  of  an  intellectual  superiority,  that  is 
not  only  extraordinary,  but  native.  This  dignity 
of  subjects  is  always  sustained.  If  he  had  written 
a  volume  on  water-baptism,  on  ancient  sacrifices,  or 
on  the  Apocalypse  as  teaching  the  end  of  time,  there 
would  be  evidence  of  a  falling  away  from  the  spirit 
ual  eminence  which  seems  to  have  been  his  natural 
home. 

Leaving  the  discussion  of  intellectual  and  moral 
traits,  we  would  follow  Dr.  Channing  into  his  litera 
ture,  and  note  what  to  us  is  there  most  strikingly 
exhibited.  The  first  thing  that  we  here  notice  is  a 
full  command  over  his  subject.  There  is  not  a  place 
where  he  seems  to  toil.  He  never  appears  to  strug 
gle  with  difficulties ;  but,  as  a  master  of  his  theme 
and  his  thoughts,  he  advances  with  firmness  and 
ease.  On  this  we  would  not  enlarge  ;  but  \vould 
allude  to  it,  in  passing,  as  the  greatest  quality  of 
good  writing,  and  as  the  most  indubious  sign  of 
power. 

Another  feature  of  his  writings  is  the  wide  views 
taken  of  the  subjects  discussed.  A  truth  is  followed 
into  a  wide  range.  Hence,  in  part,  has  arisen  the 
charge  of  diffuseness.  But,  in  the  great  range  of 
nature,  there  is  no  truth  remaining  in  solitude,  none 
belonging  to  a  corner.  Every  truth  has  a  large 
range ;  and  ought  not  its  discussion  to  bear  some 
evidence  of  this  fact  ?  Ought  it  not  to  be  followed 


CHANNING.  101 

out  in  writing,  somewhat  as  it  courses  along  through 
nature  and  the  life  of  man  ?  Style,  in  this  respect, 
is,  and  should  be,  modified  by  the  order  of  thought 
in  which  a  writer  deals.  The  end  to  be  gained  is 
the  best  impression  on  other  minds ;  and,  if  a  writer 
deals  in  great  ethical  thoughts,  and  in  modes  to 
which  most  are  not  accustomed,  he  should  avoid  a 
cramping  of  the  spirit  of  truth  by  over-condensation, 
—  should  allow  one  idea  to  stand  by  itself  long 
enough  to  be  seen  and  measured,  before  another  is 
permitted  to  crowd  it  away.  Considering  the  views 
in  which  Dr.  Channing  dealt,  we  are  not  sure  that 
a  greater  number,  brought  into  the  same  space, 
would  be  to  the  benefit  of  the  reader.  The  skies  are 
not  less  beautiful  for  the  space  between  its  stars.  If 
he  had  used  a  different  order  of  truths,  the  same  style 
perhaps  might  be  moderately  liable  to  this  charge ; 
but,  as  it  is,  the  manner  adopted  best  subserves  the 
end  in  view. 

In  reading  this  author,  we  are  conscious  of  being 
penetrated  by  his  influence.  This  power  to  diffuse 
himself  through  the  mind  he  instructs,  and  to  take 
command  of  the  whole  attention,  is  characteristic  of 
Channing.  He  carries  us  along  by  a  power  which 
almost  seems  our  own.  He  pervades  us  more  than 
do  most  authors.  This  ability,  shared  by  all  masters 
of  the  human  heart,  was  his  in  an  eminent  degree. 
But  it  was  not  the  passions  that  he  moved ;  for  his 
influence  hushed  their  tumults,  and  brought  on  a 
calm  ;  —  a  calm  in  which  a  serene  intellect  and  the 
moral  feelings  found  th.jir  true  supremacy.  We 
remember  to  have  seen  tears  fall  from  the  eyes  of  an 
9* 


102 


CHANNINO. 


uneducated  man,  as  he  read  a  page  of  Channing  on 
the  offices  of  the  conscience ;  but  sympathy,  which 
he  only  moves  through  the  higher  sentiments,  was 
not  his  fort.  He  spoke  to  what  is  deeper  than  tears  ; 
and,  though  we  may  forget  the  argument,  we  cannot 
forget  the  influence. 

Authors  differ  much  in  the  power  here  mentioned. 
But  the  best  examples  go  to  prove,  that  the  more 
living  and  perfect  a  human  spirit  is,  the  easier  it  can 
penetrate  and  pervade  other  spirits ;  and  no  fact 
bears  a  mightier  sway  over  the  fate  of  an  author, 
than  the  kind  of  sentiments,  thoughts,  and  feelings, 
he  awakens  in  others.  No  writer  can  be  otherwise 
than  immortal  who  moves  what  is  truest,  deepest, 
holiest,  and  best,  in  man.  From  this  may  we  not 
safely  predict  the  future  influences  of  Dr.  Channing  ? 
For  the  soul  shall  never  change,  and  who  has  reached 
more  successfully  its  divinest  springs  ? 

In  the  literature  of  Channing,  there  is  a  constant 
dignity  of  style  as  well  as  of  subjects.  This  is  always 
Avell  sustained.  Gifted  minds  have  high  and  low 
moments.  At  one  time,  thought  flows  into  words 
and  sentences,  as  the  rivers  run ;  at  another,  all  is 
drought  and  vacancy.  Men  are  unequal  to  them 
selves.  But  in  no  page  or  paragraph  does  Channing 
falter  in  the  usual  beauty  and  perfection  of  his  style, 
which  always  corresponds  to  the  dignity  of  his 
thoughts.  Not  that  all  are  equally  eloquent  or  for 
cible,  for  thought  and  speech  vary  as  parts  of  the 
landscape ;  but  the  same  formative,  perfecting  genius 
is  always  present.  Were  we  to  seek  a  fault  of  style 
in  one  so  far  above  the  fear  of  criticism,  it  would  be 


CHANNING. 

found  in  the  sameness  with  which  he  often  passes 
from  one  view  to  another ;  as,  for  instance,  "  I  pro 
ceed  to  state  another  reason,"  —  trifling  to  be  sure, 
but  perhaps  not  wholly  unworthy  of  regard. 

But  were  we  asked  to  state  the  great  virtue  of 
Channing's  literature,  we  should  unhesitatingly  refer 
to  its  MORAL  INSPIRATION.  There  is  a  sense,  unneces 
sary  to  be  explained,  in  which  the  best  human  writ 
ings  are  inspired  ;  and  no  inspiration  is  so  perfect  as 
that  in  which  the  love  of  the  true  and  the  good 
accordantly  blend ;  as  that  in  which  reason,  imagi 
nation,  love,  and  conscience,  pour  forth  as  clear 
streams  into  one  transparent  river.  The  lesson  he 
gives  to  literature  is,  that  nothing  is  so  good  as  truth, 
—  nothing  is  so  powerful,  nothing  is  so  beautiful  as 
truth,  —  truth  as  really  perceived  and  felt  without 
exaggeration  or  fictitious  embellishments.  No  age 
is  without  a  living  literature,  when  sincerity  dictates 
the  pen ;  whilst  every  death -state  of  popular  litera 
ture  is  marked  by  the  absence  of  this.  From  Chan- 
ning,  therefore,  may  be  educed  a  good  suggestion 
and  a  plain  reproof.  The  soul  must  speak,  or  litera 
ture  is  a  dead  November  leaf. 

His  unwillingness  to  linger  about  his  past  writings, 
to  read  much  of  the  criticisms  and  laudations  passed 
upon  himself,  has  in  it  a  deep  and  noble  meaning. 
He  would  turn  his  eyes  away  from  his  past  limits. 
In  forgetfulness  and  separation  from  past  moods  and 
positions,  the  mind  may  be  more  freely  open  to  new 
and  fresh  conceptions  of  truth.  He  who  is  wedded 
to  old  associations  cannot  behold  nature  anew,  can 
not  be  free  to  welcome  fresh  revelations,  cannot  hail 


104 


CHANNING. 


with  joy  and  gladness  the  daAvn  and  sunrise  of  new 
spiritual  days.  There  is  a  bondage  of  the  past  over 
the  present,  when  its  perfectness  is  acknowledged,  of 
which  the  sensitive  mind  cannot  be  ignorant ;  and,  as 
a  guard  against  self-complacency,  as  a  dread  of  the 
limitations  of  the  past,  this  indifference  and  inatten 
tion  is  beautifully  expressive  of  true  self-comprehen 
sion  and  of  the  purest  aspiration. 

From  these  general  views,  let  us  proceed  to  his 
particular  works.  And,  opening  among  his  early 
efforts,  the  review  of  Milton  first  commands  attention. 
We  regard  this  as  the  most  able  of  his  reviews,  whilst 
that  on  Fenelon  abounds  most  in  perfect  and  uncon 
scious  touches  of  moral  description.  Here  we  see 
Milton  in  his  full  dimension.  The  analysis  of  his 
mind  and  character  is  happy  and  clear.  Channing, 
it  would  seem,  was  peculiarly  adapted  to  measure  a 
mind  like  Milton's;  for  the  proximity  of  mental  states, 
which  is  always  the  essential  law  of  a  perfect  mutual 
appreciation,  was  not  wanting  here.  In  the  character 
of  each,  the  moral  and  religious  elements  prevailed 
in  strong  and  exalted  power.  This  is,  indeed,  a 
great  point.  Also  the  sense  of  sublimity,  the  chief 
fact  of  Milton's  intellect,  existed,  as  we  have  else 
where  intimated,  in  much  vigor  in  Channing,  though 
never  poured  forth  in  an  unrestrained  action,  but 
guided  into  the  service  of  composition  demanding 
the  ascendency  of  reasoning  power.  Each  was  alive 
to  the  beautiful ;  each  was  an  independent  mind, 
sought  truth  sincerely,  and  in  some  important  re 
spects,  though  in  different  centuries,  came  to  like 
conclusions. 


CHANNING.  105 

In  portraying  the  nature  and  mission  of  poetry, 
Dr.  Charming  assigns  it  the  highest  place,  and  dis 
covers  its  great  sources  in  the  soul  itself;  in  the  aspi 
rations,  thirsts,  yearnings  of  the  immortal  powers; 
in  the  passions  of  a  great  nature ;  in  the  longings  of 
the  spirit  for  a  more  powerful,  joyful,  and  perfect 
state  of  existence ;  whilst  the  present  life,  and  the 
splendors  of  the  visible  universe,  are  tributary  to  this 
spiritual  and  refining  energy. 

"  It  is  not  true,  that  the  poet  paints  a  life  which  does 
not  exist.  He  only  extracts  and  concentrates,  as  it  were, 
life's  ethereal  essence,  arrests  and  condenses  its  volatile 
fragrance,  brings  together  its  scattered  beauties,  and  pro 
longs  its  more  refined  but  evanescent  joys.  ...  It  reveals 
to  us  the  loveliness  of  nature,  brings  back  the  freshness 
of  early  feeling,  revives  the  relish  of  simple  pleasures, 
keeps  unquenched  the  enthusiasm  which  warmed  the 
spring-time  of  our  being,  refines  youthful  love,  strength 
ens  our  interest  in  human  nature  by  vivid  delineations  of 
its  tenderest  and  loftiest  feelings,  spreads  our  sympathies 
over  all  classes  of  society,  knits  us  by  new  ties  with  uni 
versal  being,  and,  through  the  brightness  of  its  prophetic 
visions,  helps  faith  to  lay  hold  on  the  future  life." 

The  light  manner  in  which  he  treats  the  opinion, 
that  poetry  flourishes  most  in  an  uncultivated  soil, 
that  its  creations  are  brightest  from  an  early  and 
half-barbarous  state,  has,  we  know,  a  few  strong 
opponents.  But  the  whole  controversy,  in  relation 
to  poetry  as  flourishing  best  in  a  cultivated  or  in  an 
uncultivated  age,  resolves  itself  into  agreement,  when 
both  parties  inquire  for  the  kind  of  poetry  that  be 
longs  to  each  of  these  periods.  Homeric  poetry 


108  CHANN1NG. 

may  best  flourish  in  a  ruder  age  ;  for  it  is  the  poetry 
of  passion  and  of  outward  life.  But  poetry  giving 
expression  to  man's  more  spiritual  longings,  conflicts, 
aspirations,  and  joys,  flourishes  best  in  later  time. 
"  Paradise  Lost"  could  not.  have  been  produced  in 
a  rude  and  undeveloped  stage  of  the  human  mind. 

But  the  causes  which  contributed  to  his  success  in 
the  review  of  Milton  did  not  unerringly  guide  him 
in  his  review  of  Bonaparte.  Notwithstanding  the 
ability  that  article  displays,  it  is  too  evident  that 
Napoleon  is  not  exhibited  in  his  true  and  proper 
dimension.  Without  pausing  to  object  to  that  se 
verity  which  strips  the  hero  of  every  moral  virtue, 
we  regret  that  the  least  injustice,  from  so  high  a 
source,  should  have  been  done  to  his  mental  great 
ness.  We  can  see  that  his  love  of  power  came  to 
bear  a  mighty  sway  over  his  better  sentiments.  But 
a  mind  may  be  still  great  and  mighty,  whether  acting 
with  or  against  the  moral  laws.  In  this  review, 
Chanriing  speaks  of  the  different  kinds  of  greatness, 
which  he  distinguishes  as  Moral,  Intellectual,  and 
Active,  or  "  the  greatness  of  action."  He  gives 
Bonaparte  a  place  in  the  last  and  lowest  order  of 
these  divisions,  "  the  greatness  of  action;  "  in  which, 
however,  he  is  not  disposed  "  to  consider  him  as  pre 
eminent."*  Without  instituting  a  controversy  on 
these  distinctions,  —  Avhose  convenience  in  the  theo 
retic  confinement  of  Napoleon  to  the  least  honorable 
of  the  three  is  not  a  little  remarkable,  —  we  would 
assume,  that,  as  outward  action  is  as  directly  from 
the  mind  as  the  Iliad  or  the  Odyssey,  it  may,  as 

*  Works,  vol.  i.  p.  120. 


CHANNING.  107 

infallibly  as  they,  attest  its  greatness  or  inferiority. 
Whatever  metaphysical  distinctions  may  be  made,  it 
is  certain  that  greatness  comes  of  the  mind.  What 
else  has  any  from  which  it  may  come  ?  It  is  this  that 
directs  every  grosser  power.  Bonaparte  —  origin 
ating  his  own  plans  and  directing  their  execution,  in 
the  midst  of  the  greatest  difficulties  often,  and  here 
and  there  uttering  a  sentence  all  sparkling  with  a 
penetrating  genius  that  comprehended  men  —  could 
give  as  sound  evidence  of  mental  greatness  as  the 
writer  of  books,  or  the  constructor  of  new  creeds 
and  philosophical  theories.  The  world  has  believed 
no  lie  in  the  homage  it  has  paid  to  its  heroes.  If 
these  have  had  the  greatest  influence,  the  reason  is, 
they  have  been  in  reality  its  greatest  men.  Napo 
leon,  as  a  man  of  action,  was  not  the  executive  or 
the  administrative  man  chiefly.  He  was  the  origin 
ating  actor. 

But  to  return  to  Dr.  Channing.  He  begins  his 
article  by  remarks  on  Scott's  Life  of  Napoleon,  and 
affirms  for  it  the  "  great  merit  of  impartiality."  He 
also  says,  "  We  think,  that  his  laudable  fear  of 
wronging  the  enemy  of  his  country,  joined  to  an 
admiration  of  the  dazzling  qualities  of  Napoleon, 
has  led  him  to  soften  unduly  the  crimes  of  his  hero, 
and  to  give  more  favorable  views  than  the  truth  will 
warrant."  *  At  this  time  the  public  opinion  was  not 
formed  in  relation  to  Scott's  Life  of  Bonaparte  ;  and 
the  single  fact,  that  Dr.  Channing  could  accord  to  it 
the  rare  merit  of  impartiality,  and  gently  accuse  the 
author  of  giving  more  favorable  impressions  of  his 
*  Works,  vol.  i.  p.  70. 


108  CHANNING. 

hero  than  the  truth  will  warrant,  prepares  us  to  say, 
that,  under  the  views  from  which  he  wrote,  he  was 
not  thoroughly  capable  of  giving  us  Bonaparte  as  he 
was. 

Nevertheless,  there  is  considerable  justice  in  this 
review.  Allowances  are  made  for  the  disastrous 
influences  of  Bonaparte's  early  education  ;  and  the 
essay  is  evidently  prompted  by  a  desire  to  arrest 
the  moral  injury  which  a  character  like  his,  viewed 
through  the  popular  admiration  of  a  great  conqueror, 
was  calculated  to  create.  Before  the  firm  grandeur 
of  Channing's  moral  ideas,  the  conqueror  of  nations 
seems  to  stand  before  a  master.  But,  after  all  the 
merits  and  excellences  of  this  article  are  enumerated, 
the  conviction  remains,  that  there  is  a  back-ground  of 
truth  that  does  not  appear ;  that  others  should  share 
the  blame  exclusively  laid  upon  him ;  that  his  legal 
benefactions  on  France,  his  conversations  at  St.  He 
lena,  and  other  manifestations  of  his  mind,  not  here 
to  be  named,  conspire  to  make  his  greatness  far  more 
than  a  secondary  greatness  of  action.  The  convic 
tion  still  remains,  that  he  had  a  greatness  of  intellect, 
creative  and  strong,  such  indeed  as  few  men  have 
ever  possessed ;  and,  whilst  we  should  persevere  in 
the  doctrines  of  justice  and  peace,  we  should  dis 
criminate  between  a  servile  homage  to  English  liter 
ature,  and  a  real  reverence  for  the  principles  of  Avhich 
war  is  ever  the  infraction.  Napoleon  belonged  to  a 
revolutionary  age,  and  though  more  good  than  evil 
to  Europe  probably  came  from  his  movement,  yet  it 
is  well  that  his  career  was  arrested ;  for  no  man 
would  nobly  have  used  such  an  extent  of  power  as 


CHANNING.  109 

the  success  of  his  plans  would  have  gained.  But, 
bad  as  Napoleon  may  have  been,  let  us  not  speak  of 
him  as  one  who  broke  in  upon  the  calm  of  the  uni 
verse  from  no  cause  but  his  own  vicious  will,  as  if 
there  was  nothing  out  of  him  tending  that  way. 

The  Remarks  on  Fenelon  breathe  a  gentle  and 
deep  spirituality.  A  character  like  Fenelon,  Chan- 
ning  could  not  fail  to  draw  to  the  life.  The  saint  of 
divine  virtues,  the  hero  in  whom  the  moral  or  the 
religious  element  prevailed,  could  not  be  otherwise 
than  thoroughly  comprehended  by  a  moral  genius  so 
penetrating  as  his.  In  giving  us  Fenelon,  Channing 
has  unconsciously  drawn  the  picture  of  himself. 

But  time  would  fail  to  speak  of  each  particular 
effort.  These  early  productions,  published  as  Mis 
cellanies,  strike  us  on  the  whole  as  being,  more  than 
his  later  writings,  severe  labors  of  intellect.  Those 
of  after-life  evince  a  greater  mingling  of  the  affec 
tions  with  the  current  of  reason,  as  both  flowed  on 
in  a  glorious  river  of  sublime  and  useful  discourse. 
The  discourses  on  Self-culture,  Spiritual  Freedom, 
Revealed  Religion,  the  Imitableness  of  Christ's  Char 
acter,  the  Laboring  Classes,  and  the  Immortal  Life, 
must  live  with  the  language  in  which  they  are  written. 
We  know  of  nothing  in  the  English  literature  with 
which  to  compare  them.  It  is  true  that  only  a  few 
great  principles  flow  through  all  these ;  but  this  is 
not  unnatural.  Great  principles  are  comparatively 
few,  whilst  their  illustrations  and  exhibitions  are 
many.  In  nature,  science  has  told  us  that  there 
are  but  about  fifty-six  simple  elements.  But  see 
what  hundreds,  thousands,  and  millions  of  combina- 
10 


110  CHANNING. 

tions  and  embodiments  of  these  does  nature  present 
you  !  If  you  deal  in  principles  wholly,  be  content 
with  an  infinite  few.  But  if  you  work  with  facts, 
things,  particulars,  and  details,  you  have  an  infinite 
many. 

The  people  felt  that  there  was  no  such  preacher 
as  he.  Without  any  attempt  at  eloquence,  or  display 
of  any  sort,  and  through  the  calm  and  earnest  utter 
ance  of  his  real  thoughts,  through  deep  sincerity  and 
living  faith,  through  a  wide  range  of  thought  and 
love,  he  gained  a  power  over  many  minds  more 
valuable  than  the  throne  of  the  Csesars.  His  idea  of 
the  minister's  vocation  was  most  exalted.  All  eter 
nity  overshadowed  it  with  sacred  importance.  A 
frequent  hearer  thus  speaks :  — 

"  No  preacher,  perhaps,  had  ever  at  command  the  stores 
of  a  richer  imagination.  But  all  was  sober  in  his  admin 
istration  of  religion.  To  utter  the  truth,  the  naked  truth, 
was  his  highest  aim  and  ambition.  The  effect  he  was 
willing  to  leave  with  God,  and  the  heart  of  the  hearer. 
He  never  seemed  to  labor  so  much,  to  enforce  truth,  as  to 
utter  it ;  but  this  kind  of  utterance,  this  swelling  and 
almost  bursting  of  the  inmost  heart  to  express  itself, 
was  the  most  powerful  enforcement."  —  Memoirs,  vol.  ii. 
p.  288. 

It  was  said,  that  he  and  Buckminster  introduced  a 
new  era  in  preaching ;  that  he  read  the  Scriptures 
and  sacred  poetry  with  peculiar  pathos ;  that  a 
mild  and  melancholy  beauty  tinged  his  manner ; 
that  "  the  most  trifling  saw  in  him  a  man  thoroughly 
in. earnest ;  "  that  the  fire  and  enthusiasm  of  his  na- 


CHANNING. 


Ill 


ture  Avere  subdued ;   that  his  appeals  to  conscience 
were  solemn  and  thoroughly  penetrating. 

"  He  saw,  and  made  others  see,  that  life  was  no  play- 
place,  but  a  magnificent  scene  for  glorifying  God,  and  a 
rich  school  for  the  education  of  spirits.  He  showed  to 
men  the  substance  of  which  surrounding  appearances  are 
the  shadow ;  and,  behind  transient  experiences,  revealed 
the  spiritual  laws  which  they  express.  Thus  he  gathered 
round  him  an  enlarging  circle  of  devoted  friends,  who 
gratefully  felt  that  they  drank  in  from  him  new  life."  — 
Memoirs,  vol.  i.  p.  206. 

We  would  simply  add  to  these  testimonies  the 
fact,  that  Dr.  Channing  caused  himself  to  be  wholly 
forgotten,  through  the  interest  he  awakened  in  his 
subject. 

As  a  religious  controversialist,  Dr.  Channing  has 
certainly  some  of  the  most  exalted  traits ;  for,  on  all 
topics  of  theological  difference,  he  sought  a  position 
far  above  the  pride,  prejudice,  and  passion,  which 
controversy  excites.  He  was  conscious  of  great 
danger  on  this  point.  Hence,  he  found  his  opponent 
in  the  abstract  errors  he  opposed,  in  the  best  argu 
ments  by  which  they  were  maintained,  and  not  in 
individuals.  He  left  his  thoughts  to  speak  for  them 
selves.  He  was  fearless  of  the  results,  having  given 
his  matured  reasons,  in  the  full  confidence  of  a  due 
appreciation.  This  is  controversy  in  its  noblest 
form. 

Another  fact  bespeaks  the  great  man  far  more 
than  the  most  ingenious  array  of  argument,  which  is 
the  firm  conviction  he  entertained,  that  all  parties 


112  CHANNING. 

were  fighting  in  a  mist ;  that,  to  end  their  contro 
versies,  all  must  have  a  light  which  none  as  yet 
possess. 

"  I  apprehend,"  said  he,  "  that  there  is  but  one  way  of 
putting  an  end  to  our  present  dissensions  ;  and  that  is 
not  the  triumph  of  any  existing  system  over  all  others, 
hut  the  acquisition  of  something  better  than  the  best  we 
now  have.  The  way  to  reconcile  men  who  are  quarrelling 
in  a  fog  is  to  let  in  some  new  light.  It  seems  to  me  we 
are  fighting  now  in  a  low  misty  valley.  A  man  who 
should  gain  some  elevated  position,  overlooking  our  ima 
gined  heights  of  thought,  and  who  would  lead  us  after 
him,  would  set  us  all  right  in  a  short  time."  —  Memoirs, 
vol.  ii.  p.  281. 

It  is  rare,  very  rare,  that  any  man,  who  takes  a  part 
in  topics  controverted,  ever  gets  a  position  high 
enough  from  which  to  make  this  discovery. 

In  discussions  theological,  the  great  points  are  con 
sidered,  the  main  principles  elucidated,  and  urged 
upon  the  subject  in  hand.  You  will  observe,  that 
he  abounds  less  than  most  writers  in  quotations  of 
chapter  and  verse.  His  few  Bible  quotations  are 
such  as  express  a  general  and  an  important  truth. 
This  is  probably  to  be  accounted  for  by  his  confi 
dence  in  the  general  strain  of  Scripture,  rather  than 
in  the  use  commonly  made  of  detached  passages ; 
and  also  by  his  usual  habit  of  bringing  nature  and 
the  soul  under  tribute  to  his  views.  All  sects  quote 
chapter  and  verse  ;  and  he  whose  reasoning  is  chiefly 
the  marshalling  of  these,  never  leads  you  profoundly 
through  any  one  subject.  The  Baltimore  sermon  is 


CHANNING.  113 

decidedly  the  greatest  of  his  controversial  efforts. 
It  concentrates  much  intellectual  force.  Clearness, 
vigor,  and  comprehensiveness,  are  its  conspicuous 
qualities.  Its  boldness  and  depth  of  argument,  its 
candor  and  its  charity,  its  expression  of  great  prin 
ciples,  its  philosophical  distinctions  and  harmonious 
currents  of  nature,  revelation,  and  consciousness,  con 
stitute  it  one  of  the  ablest  efforts  of  which  theological 
controversy  may  boast. 

The  two  discourses  on  Revealed  Religion,  or  the 
Genuineness  and  Truth  df  Christianity,  strike  us  as 
original,  as  a  peculiar  combination  of  ideas,  such 
as  none  but  he  could  have  given.  In  the  first  dis 
course,  the  reason  he  assigns  for  believing  in  Chris 
tianity  is  because  it  is  true.  In  the  second,  he  en 
deavors  to  show  that  Christianity  is  rational ;  that  it 
accords  with  reason,  and  is  founded  on  it.  For  a 
moment  we  have  hesitated,  when  reading  these  pre 
mises,  and  asked,  Do  we  not  give  reason  too  great 
a  task  when  we  assign  it  the  entire  work  of  knowing 
Christianity  ?  Is  Christianity  founded  on  one  faculty  ? 
Is  it  to  be  known  by  one  faculty,  though  the  greatest  ? 
It  must  require  all  the  faculties  to  know  Christianity  ; 
for  it  is  a  religion  of  the  whole  soul.  But,  when  we 
see  the  writer  seeking  its  accordance  with  all  the 
spiritual  wants  of  our  nature,  we  are  admonished  to 
the  more  enlarged  use  of  this  word  reason,  as 
meaning  all  we  know,  and  all  of  which  we  are  con 
scious. 

It  is  plain  that  Dr.  Channing  was  a  supernatural- 
ist.  He  believed  firmly  in  miracles,  and  maintained 
that  Christianity  was  miraculously  unfolded  to  man ; 
10* 


114  CHANN1NG. 

that  Christ  pre-existed,  and  was  supernaturally 
given ;  that  he  is  in  advance  of  all  ages,  and  is  the 
Saviour  through  all  time. 

"  Under  him,"  said  he,  "  the  great  battle  of  the  human 
race  is  to  he  fought."  —  "  In  regard  to  miracles,  I  never 
had  the  least  difficulty.  The  grand  miracle,  as  often  has 
heen  said,  is  the  perfect,  divine  character  of  Christ ;  and 
to  such  a  being  a  miraculous  mode  of  manifestation  seems 
natural.  It  is  by  no  figure  of  speech  that  I  call  Christ 
miraculous.  He  was  more  separate  from  other  men,  than 
his  acts  from  other  acts.  He  was  the  perfect  image  of 
God,  the  perfection  of  the  spiritual  nature."  —  Memoirs, 
vol.  ii.  p.  449. 

But  the  supernatural  in  Dr.  Channing's  premises  is, 
so  to  speak,  very  natural ;  for  he  never  infers  discord 
between  the  two.  No  man  dwells  more  on  the  har 
mony  between  Christianity  and  nature  ;  and  he  would 
as  soon  imagine,  that  the  laws  of  life  in  the  flower 
and  the  verdant  fields  are  violated  by  heaven's 
light  and  rain,  as  that  the  laws  of  mind  are  violated 
by  the  influence  of  this  supernatural  religion. 

This  subject  has  excited  some  controversy  since 
Dr.  Channing  died.  But  no  great  light,  as  yet,  has 
come.  Perhaps  more  than  ever  do  thoughtful  men 
accept  of  the  supernatural,  on  the  ground  that  it 
accords  with  nature ;  for  the  confidence  of  man  in 
this  is  very  deep,  and  seems  to  underlie  every  other 
confidence.  Mankind  have  always  believed  in  what 
they  have  regarded  as  supernatural  phenomena. 
This  is  indeed  a  great  fact ;  for  the  race  is  wiser  than 
the  few.  Every  earnest  controversy  implies  a  want 


CHANNING.  115 

from  which  it  springs.  There  has  been  an  unphilo- 
sophical  and  a  superstitious  excess  of  supernatural- 
ism  in  the  popular  belief;  and  this  excess,  through 
re-action,  has  brought  up  the  other  extreme  of  natu 
ralism.  Perhaps  the  final  result  will  be,  that  the 
accordance  between  nature  and  the  miraculous  fea 
tures  of  Christianity  will  be  better  known ;  that 
supernaturalism  will  cease  to  be  a  contra-naturalism 
in  human  belief.  But  this  is  not  the  place  for  such 
problems.  Channing  is  a  supernaturalist,  whilst  the 
flowers  of  nature  bloom  perpetually  in  his  path. 

Channing,  we  think,  should  be  read  by  statesmen, 
not  because  he  has  enriched  political  science  with 
any  new  thoughts,  but  because  the  worth  and  dig 
nity  of  man's  nature,  which  is  the  great  idea  illumi 
nating  his  page,  is  the  basis  of  political  liberty,  virtue, 
and  wisdom.  All  wrongs  done  to  the  people  imply 
the  absence  of  this  truth.  Moral  right  does  not  pre 
dominate  in  matters  of  legislation.  Hence  slavery 
and  despotism.  Channing  carries  the  subject  of 
politics  into  a  higher  and  better  atmosphere  than  we 
elsewhere  find  it.  The  spirit  his  writings  breathe 
toward  the  helpless  and  the  suffering ;  the  absolute 
greatness  of  human  rights,  though  vested  in  the 
poorest,  humblest  son  of  earth ;  the  supremacy  of 
moral  rectitude  in  a  people's  happiness ;  and  the  wide 
fraternal  sympathy  which,  irrespective  of  territorial 
and  arbitrary  distinctions,  should  bind  mankind  to 
gether,  —  we  would  see  enthroned  in  the  wisdom  of 
every  man  who  lifts  his  hand  to  direct  the  affairs, 
and  to  form  the  character,  of  nations  and  states. 
Though  a  thorough  republican,  he  had  no  great  faith 


116  CHANNINO. 

in  the  people  as  legislators,  and  far  less  in  kings  and 
aristocracies.  He  asked  both  to  rule  as  little  as  pos 
sible,  and  said  that,  in  the  present  state  of  the  world, 
King  Log  seems  the  best  king.  He  believed  that  we 
should  improve  our  sovereign,  rather  than  boast  of 
his  infallibility. 

We  have  said  that  Dr.  Channing  was  not  a  pioneer 
of  new  and  revolutionary  thoughts,  but  was  one  of 
whom  reformers  might  take  counsel.  But,  as  all 
truth  is  reformatory;  come  when  and  how  it  may,  he 
was,  in  the  sense  heretofore  explained,  a  reformer  of 
ideas,  sentiments,  and  actions.  And  his  whole  cha 
racter,  as  a  reformer,  is  so  perfectly  drawn  in  a  sin 
gle  sentence  of  his  pen,  that  we  here  present  it :  — 
"  It  is  not  by  assailing  the  low  in  practice  or  princi 
ple,  but  by  manifesting  the  high,  that  the  great  work 
of  reformation  is  to  go  on."*  There  is  not  another 
sentence  which  makes  so  perfect  a  history  of  his 
whole  mental  manifestation  as  this.  His  life  was 
singularly  a  manifestation  of  the  high,  —  the  high  in 
idea,  purpose,  and  spirit,  the  serene  elevation  of 
which  is  carried  through  the  most  exciting  subjects. 
Turn  to  his  work  on  Slavery,  written  when  con 
science,  prejudice,  and  passion,  were  everywhere 
bursting  into  flames,  and  you  are  at  once  conscious 
of  being  in  a  cool  yet  sunny  air  of  reflection,  where 
you  see  and  feel  the  deep  wrong  of  oppression  ;  the 
indestructible,  universal  law  of  freedom  inscribed  by 
the  Creator  on  the  human  heart ;  and  where  you 
cannot  utter  words  of  passion  against  the  slaveholder. 

*  Memoirs,  vol.  ii.  p.  377. 


CHANNING.  117 

Here  is  the  philosophy  of  reform.  Man  can  rise 
above  no  particular  state,  except  through  that  which 
is  above  it. 

We  have  now  presented  Dr.  Channing  in  what  to 
us  appears  the  chief  characteristics  of  his  moral  and 
intellectual  character.  We  have  followed  him  into 
his  literature,  and  have  spoken  of  the  principal  traits 
of  his  writings.  Let  us  now  inquire,  How  did  such 
a  mind  grow  up  ?  What  were  its  epochs  of  pro 
gress  ? 

This  brings  us  more  extensively  into  historical 
particulars.  W.  E.  Channing  was  born,  April  7, 
1780,  on  the  island  of  Rhode  Island,  Newport.  From 
this  place  came  the  first  impressions  of  life  and  na 
ture  to  his  mind.  His  father  was  a  lawyer  of  fair 
standing ;  his  mother  was  a  woman  of  plain  strong 
sense,  with  more  than  common  sincerity  and  inde 
pendence  of  character.  William"  is  said  to  have 
been  rather  dull,  though  grave  and  reflective.  He 
loved  the  lonely  ramble  on  the  sea-beach,  and  de 
lighted  in  venturesome  sports.  At  the  age  of  thir 
teen,  his  father  died,  leaving  in  humble  circumstances 
a  wife  and  nine  children.  This  event  spoke  to 
William  of  self-reliance.  A  year  previous,  he  had 
been  sent  to  New  London  to  prepare  for  college, 
under  the  care  of  his  uncle,  a  clergyman  who,  it 
seems,  had  green  earth  on  which  to  stand  and  open 
fields,  though  surrounded  by  the  Lybian  waste  of  a 
gloomy  theology,  whose  stern  proscriptiveness  had 
overclouded  the  State  Avith  intolerance.  It  was 
here,  in  the  awakening  movement  of  a  religious 
revival,  that  young  Channing's  religious  life  takes 


118  CHANNING. 

date ;  so  that  New  London,  to  him,  was  always 
sacred  in  the  memory  of  a  great  spiritual  fact.  This 
period  of  life,  on  which  the  circumstances  of  society, 
events,  and  the  forms  of  external  nature,  exert  crea 
tive  influence,  is  indeed  important  to  all,  though 
most  depends  on  the  quality  and  internal  action  of 
the  mind  itself.  Then  it  extracts  for  its  growth  the 
precious*  of  all  surrounding  scenes.  Nature  was 
beautiful,  society  was  interesting  there ;  and,  in  this 
first  era  of  Channing's  history,  there  is  enough  of 
the  disinterested,  the  courageous,  the  reverential,  the 
kind,  to  exhibit  the  prophetic  blossoms  of  the  autum 
nal  fruit. 

The  second  epoch  of  his  mental  growth  com 
mences,  we  think,  in  his  fifteenth  year,  or  thereabouts, 
not  from  any  thing  belonging  to  the  college-life  he 
was  leading  at  Harvard  at  the  time,  but  from  the 
dawn  of  the  great  idea  of  human  capacity  for  perfec 
tion  on  his  mind.  This  is  worthy  of  distinct  remem 
brance.  Simple  was  the  circumstance  that  called 
it  into  being,  —  the  reading  of  thoughts,  kindred 
though  by  no  means  equal  to  his  own,  from  Hutch- 
inson.  Human  nature  then  rose  to  his  view  in  the 
brightness  of  its  obscured  divinity.  Ever  after,  man 
became  his  great  theme,  to  whom  his  speech  and 
pen  always  turned  in  deep  and  hopeful  interest,  as 
indeed  do  all  the  means  of  nature,  providence,  and 
Christianity.  If  the  flowering  of  the  plant,  growing 
from  its  own  life,  opens  an  era  in  its  advancement, 
so  did  the  dawn  of  this  truth  in  the  history  of  Chan- 
nirig.  Other  facts  belonging  to  this  period  are  also 
interesting.  Shakspeare,  the  sun  of  drama,  poured 


CHANNING. 

his  beams  upon  the  intellect  of  the  students,  Chan- 
ning  among  them ;  whilst  Price  saved  him  from 
materialism,  and  gave  him  the  doctrine  of  ideas. 
Politics  aroused  his  talents.  He  excelled  in  the 
classics,  and,  on  leaving,  took  the  highest  honors  of 
the  college.  Driven  to  examine  the  evidences  of 
Christianity  by  the  prevalence  of  French  infidelity, 
he  selected,  in  his  senior  year,  the  ministry  for  his 
profession.  Nor  is  that  a  meaningless  page  in  this 
early  history  which  records  his  stay  among  the  good 
Virginians,  where  he  saw  nature  and  society  under 
new  forms,  heard  an  order  of  eloquence  thrilling  and 
free,  met  a  freedom  of  manners,  a  generosity  of 
character,  a  democracy  of  political  sentiment,  a  social 
enthusiasm,  a  high-mindedness,  and  spontaneity  of 
virtues,  that  deeply  interested  and  instructed  him. 
This  contact  with  the  very  antipodes  of  the  cere 
monial  reserve  and  Federalistic  tendencies  of  society 
whence  he  came,  made  no  useless  impress  on  this 
New  England  youth,  although  the  absence  of  self- 
care  and  the  excess  of  study  ruined  his  excellent 
constitution  for  life. 

But  he  returned  to  Newport,  and,  unaided  by  a 
teacher,  studied  theology.  As  the  scenery  of  this 
place  was  so  eminently  creative  in  the  formation  of 
his  character,  we  will  extract  a  few  lines  touching 
this  point :  — 

"  I  must  bless  God  for  the  place  of  my  nativity ;  for, 
as  my  mind  unfolded,  I  became  more  and  more  alive  to 
the  beautiful  scenery  which  now  attracts  strangers  to  our 
island.  My  first  liberty  was  used  in  roaming  over  the 
neighboring  hills  and  shores  ;  and,  amid  this  glorious 


120  CHANNING. 

nature,  that  love  of  liberty  sprang  up  which  has  gained 
strength  within  me  to  this  hour.  I  early  received  im 
pressions  of  the  great  and  the  beautiful,  which,  I  believe, 
have  had  no  small  influence  in  determining  my  modes  of 
thought  and  habits  of  life.  In  this  town,  I  pursued  for  a 
time  my  studies  of  theology.  I  had  no  professor  or  teacher 
to  guide  me  ;  but  I  had  two  noble  places  of  study.  One 
was  yonder  beautiful  edifice,  now  so  frequented  and  so 
useful  as  a  public  library  ;  then  so  deserted,  that  I  spent 
day  after  day,  and  sometimes  week  after  week,  amidst  its 
dusty  volumes,  without  interruption  from  a  single  visitor. 
The  other  was  yonder  beach,  the  roar  of  which  has  so 
often  mingled  with  the  worship  of  this  place,  my  daily 
resort,  dear  to  me  in  the  sunshine,  still  more  attractive  in 
the  storm.  Seldom  do  I  visit  it  now,  without  thinking 
of  the  work  which  there,  in  the  sight  of  that  beauty,  in 
the  sound  of  those  waves,  was  carried  on  in  my  soul.  No 
spot  on  earth  has  helped  so  much  to  form  me  as  that 
beach.  There  I  lifted  up  my  voice  in  praise  amidst  the 
tempest.  There,  softened  by  beauty,  I  poured  out  my 
thanksgiving  and  contrite  confessions.  There,  in  rever 
ential  sympathy  with  the  mighty  power  around  me,  I 
became  conscious  of  power  within.  There,  struggling 
thoughts  and  emotions  broke  forth,  as  if  moved  to  utter 
ance  by  nature's  eloquence  of  winds  and  waves.  There, 
began  a  happiness  surpassing  all  worldly  pleasures,  all 
gifts  of  fortune,  —  the  happiness  of  communing  with  the 
works  of  God.  I  believe  that  the  worship  of  which  I  have 
this  day  spoken  was  aided  in  my  own  soul  by  the  scenes 
in  which  my  early  life  was  passed." 

Few,  indeed,  ever  pause  to  reflect  on  the  intellec 
tual  and  moral  contributions  of  the  external  creation. 
Perhaps  no  man  fully  knows  the  extent  of  its  crea- 


CHANNING.  121 

tive,  developing  influence ;  whilst  it  is  certain,  that 
no  one  unfolds  his  spirit  in  the  beauty  of  its  powers, 
whose  mind  is  not  open  and  alive  to  all  the  great 
and  beautiful  impressions  of  the  surrounding  uni 
verse.  That  Channing  found  an  aid  to  his  spiritual 
growth  in  nature ;  that  he  strove  to  imbibe  the  spirit 
its  forms  express ;  that  he  felt  a  lively  sympathy  in 
the  outward  world,  which  increased  by  time,  is 
plainly  manifest.  We  have  now  gained  an  impor 
tant  fact  in  the  formatory  processes  by  which  the 
character  of  Channing  was  formed. 

In  1803,  he  was  ordained  pastor  of  the  Federal- 
street  Church,  Boston.  This  was  a  new  school  for 
the  mind  and  heart.  His  feeble  society  became 
large  and  prosperous.  His  rules  of  self-discipline 
exhibit  a  stern  faithfulness,  a  deeply  serious  spirit,  of 
which  the  plain  fault  was  that  of  governing  himself 
too  much,  repressing  spontaneousness  by  excess  of 
discipline.  Still  his  mind  was  gradually  reaching 
out  like  the  banian-tree  into  various  subjects,  his  eye 
meantime  practically  surveying  all  classes.  Then 
came  along,  after  a  time,  that  war  about  tenets  which 
swept  like  a  storm,  and  assailed  spotless  Christian 
characters  for  heresy  of  opinion.  Hitherto  Channing 
had  moved  in  peace  with  all  his  neighbors ;  but, 
when  he  saw  that  a  crisis  of  freedom  had  actually 
come,  he  took  his  firm  stand  in  behalf  of  human  pro 
gress  and  liberty.  His  fearlessness  and  his  prudence 
are  alike  prominent  in  this  conflict  between  new  and 
old,  freedom  and  authority,  reason  and  tradition. 

In  June,  1814,  he  was  married  ;  in  1822,  visited 
England,  Italy,  and  Switzerland ;  and,  in  1823,  re- 
11 


122  CHANNING. 

turned  to  his  people.  The  following  year,  he  was  as 
sisted  by  the  ordination  of  Rev.  Ezra  Stiles  Gannett, 
as  associate  pastor,  which  relation  continued  during 
the  life  of  the  principal  pastor,  on  whose  death  he 
was  chosen  to  fill  his  place.  This  faithful  aid  from 
Mr.  Gannett  is  not  unconnected  with  the  excellence 
of  Channing's  sermons ;  for  it  gave  him  time  to 
mature  and  elaborate  every  topic  on  which  he  chose 
to  write. 

But  we  will  draw  to  a  close  this  statement  of 
particular  events.  Indeed,  his  great  events  are  his 
thoughts,  and  cannot  therefore  be  well  thrown  into 
history.  The  great  reforms  felt  the  weight  of  his 
influence,  though  no  society  could  claim  his  name 
on  its  roll  of  membership.  He  lifted  up  his  voice  in 
the  name  of  peace,  laid  open  the  passions  whence 
wars  proceed,  stripped  their  blood-stained  victories 
of  false  glory,  and  sought  to  turn  the  hearts  of  men 
to  an  age  of  peace.  Temperance,  education,  slav 
ery, —  indeed,  all  the  great  oppressive  evils  forbid 
ding  the  development  of  humanity,  —  called  out  his 
energies.  His  voice  in  the  pulpit,  as  his  health  would 
allow,  continued  to  utter  his  calm  thoughts.  His  in 
terest  in  the  laboring  classes  continued  to  increase. 
He  came  to  care  less  for  criticism,  and  more  for 
seizing  every  opportunity  for  doing  good.  He  be 
friended  and  aided  feeble  denominations  who  were 
struggling  to  represent  some  important  truths.  But 
a  volume  is  needed  to  express  these  things. 

The  publication  of  a  few  reviews  and  essays, 
snatched  as  they  were  from  the  denominational  lim 
its  of  the  paper  in  which  they  appeared,  and  thrown 


CHANNING.  123 

into  foreign  periodicals  and  magazines,  created  an 
enviable  fame ;  and,  from  the  manner  in  which  he 
struck  those  chords  in  the  human  soul  which  vibrate 
alike  in  every  country  and  age,  he  came  to  be  heard 
by  nations.  From  the  heart  of  Germany,  his  works 
were  called  for  when  living ;  whilst  with  Coleridge, 
Wordsworth,  and  several  of  the  choicest  spirits  of 
foreign  lands,  a  literary  fellowship  subsisted.  "  I 
envy  you  for  two  objects  of  interest  you  will 
meet  in  America,"  said  an  intelligent  lady  to  her 
friend,  at  the  foot  of  the  Alps,  on  hearing  of  his 
intention  to  visit  this  country.  Being  asked  what 
they  were,  she  replied,  "  Niagara  and  Channing." 
Thus  was  Channing  one  of  the  few  great  lights  of 
our  country's  literature  that  may  be  seen  from  afar,  — 
perhaps  we  should  say,  the  prominent  one  of  this 
number.  But  from  this  lofty  eminence  it  is  interest 
ing  to  send  a  downward  glance  to  the  fact,  that  his 
first  compositions  were  awkward  and  ungraceful; 
that  it  was  through  care  and  discipline  that  he  gained 
the  ease  and  sustained  dignity  of  style  which  give 
to  his  literature  an  almost  unrivalled  charm  of  ex 
cellence. 

In  the  brief  life  of  man,  we  opine,  but  three  gen 
eral  epochs  may  be  found  in  the  progress  of  the  best 
minds.  The  first  and  second,  in  the  life  of  Channing, 
are  plain ;  and  the  third  dates  in  that  period,  men 
tioned  in  the  Memoirs,  when  anxious  self-discipline 
gave  way  to  freedom  ;  when,  to  use  the  language 
of  the  author,  his -manner  grew  "less  ministerial, 
and  more  manly  ;  "  when  his  mind  took  a  wider  range 
of  naturalness  of  freedom. 


124  CHANNING. 

The  religious,  devout  element  of  Channing's  char 
acter  sheds  its  hues  over  all  his  moral  discourse. 
Strong  faith  in  the  Invisible,  in  the  Spiritual,  in  the 
presence  of  God,  is  the  very  tone  of  all  his  writings. 
Sensualism  grasps  the  outward  only,  but  never  pene 
trates  the  surface  of  the  Seen  far  enough  to  adore 
the  Divine  and  the  Eternal.  But  this  ready  recogni 
tion  of  the  Invisible,  the  best  proof  of  a  religious 
spirit,  is  as  clear  in  the  rnind  of  Channing  as  the 
evening  star  in  its  heaven.  Heaven  is  a  state,  he 
thought,  far  more  than  a  place.  The  spiritual  world 
he  conceived,  might  be  all  around  us,  and  every 
where,  though  hid  from  human  vision  by  the  present 
obscuring  veil  of  flesh.  The  fountain  of  worship 
flows  clear  from  his  heart. 

But  of  what  great  truths  do  the  mind  and  char 
acter  of  Channing  instruct  us  ?  What  does  the 
manner  of  their  growth  practically  teach  ?  They 
yield  us  three  ideas: — 1.  A  noble  QUALITY  of  na 
ture  on  which  to  build  ;  2.  A  settled  PURPOSE,  from 
early  life,  to  seek  the  perfection  of  the  mind,  of  the 
character,  as  the  end  of  being ;  3.  A  constant  living 
UNION  with  good  and  great  objects,  as  the  means. 
Within  these  we  may  limit  the  whole  philosophy  of 
Channing's  life  and  greatness.  On  the  first  of  these 
ideas,  we  remark,  that  Channing  shared  somewhat 
largely  of  those  qualities  which  make  men  abori 
gines  of  goodness ;  as  the  school-mate  said,  "  It  is 
not  half  so  hard  for  him  to  be  good  as  for  me." 
Neither  is  it  half  so  hard  for  some  minds  to  seize  on 
great  thoughts  and  express  them  happily,  as  for 
others.  But  this  doctrine  has  its  limits,  and  in  the 


CHANNING.  125 

present  case  must  not  be  so  applied  as  to  dispense 
with  heroic  virtue  against  temptation,  of  intellect 
against  difficulty.  The  second  of  these  thoughts 
seems  every  thing,  since  none  can  rise  above  their 
aims,  whilst  many  fall  below  them.  We  discover  a 
correspondence  between  grandeur  of  aim  and  na 
tive  excellence ;  but  we  frequently  see  noble  natures 
through  self-neglect  outstripped  by  those  less  gifted, 
in  consequence  of  a  more  settled  determination  to 
win  the  highest  prize.  The  universe  is  a  half-blank 
to  one  of  no  high  and  settled  aim ;  whilst  to  him  who 
has  it,  all  things  revolve  about  it,  as  planets  round 
their  sun. 

It  takes  greatness  to  make  greatness.  Souls  par 
take  of  the  objects  on  which  they  live.  If  Newton 
or  Leibnitz  had  never  lifted  their  minds  above  trifles, 
the  world  had  never  known  them  but  as  men  of 
trifles.  This  life  of  Channing  to  us  is  eloquent, 
because  it  is  a  constant  devotion  to  great  objects ; 
because  man,  nature,  God,  duty,  and  Christianity, 
commanded  the  sincere  and  faithful  action  of  his 
mind.  This  opening  of  soul  to  all  things,  this  living 
on  great  objects  in  meekness  and  humility,  is  good, 
is  the  path  that  leads  up  into  the  mount  of  God. 

Not  long  since,  we  noticed  a  remark  in  an  English 
work,  in  which  he  was  styled  the  American  Chal 
mers.  But  the  points  of  contrast  are  probably 
greater  than  those  of  similitude.  In  style,  the  long, 
complicated  sentences,  abundant  verbiage,  and  ima 
gery  of  Chalmers,  contrast  widely  with  the  plain 
style,  the  rich  but  sparing  figure,  and  the  simple 
language  of  Channing.  Chalmers  writes  more  ex- 
11* 


126  CHANN1NG. 

clusively  for  the  student.  Charming  writes  for  the 
scholar  also  ;  but  is  far  more  popular.  His  ideas 
stand  out  in  bolder  relief;  there  is  a  more  perfect 
blending  of  intellect  and  soul,  a  more  quickening 
energy  of  faith  and  love,  and  certainly  a  higher 
exhibition  of  universal  principles. 

Between  him  and  Priestley,  the  points  of  likeness 
and  of  contrast  are  striking ;  of  which  the  former  are 
few,  the  latter  many.  Both  were  alike  in  simplicity 
and  purity  of  character.  Each  had  a  similar  loyalty 
to  honest  conviction,  a  like  disinterested  love  for 
truth  and  fearless  utterance  of  opinions.  Channing, 
however,  is  more  cautious  in  his  statements  and 
premises,  and  far  less  venturesome  in  speculation. 
Priestley  had,  we  judge,  the  greater  metaphysical  and 
philosophical  powers.  He  had  more  intellect  for 
theorization,  with  a  severer  discipline,  and  greater 
vigor  of  the  logical  faculty.  Still  we  believe  that 
Channing  would  see  more  truth,  and  separate  it 
more  freely  from  error,  than  Priestley.  He  made 
sure  his  premises,  —  was  misled  by  no  desire  to 
establish  a  theory.  His  eye  was  single ;  therefore 
his  whole  body  was  full  of  light. 

Priestley  had  more  searching,  minute  philosophical 
genius  for  the  penetration  and  comprehension  of  the 
material  world,  than  Channing.  He  enriched  some 
of  the  physical  sciences  by  important  discoveries, 
and  could  get  more  science  from  nature  than  Chan 
ning.  But  the  latter  could  get  from  it  more  spiritual 
truth,  more  moral  expression.  The  prophet  brings 
out  more  divine  representation  than  the  philosopher. 
Priestley  had  matter,  whilst  Channing  had  spirit,  for 


CHANNING,  127 

his  basis.  Here  is  the  great  contrast.  It  is  wider 
than  the  poles.  Priestley  reduced  divine  agency  to 
an  operation  of  law :  with  Channing,  God  has  a 
spiritual  access,  direct,  immediate  to  the  soul.  He 
wrote  far  less  than  Priestley  ;  but,  writing  from  higher 
spiritual  views,  and  from  a  higher  life  in  his  own 
mind,  he  is,  we  think,  destined  to  influence  mankind 
incomparably  more. 

Since  Jonathan  Edwards,  Channing  is  the  most 
distinguished  of  American  divines.  Edwards  had  in 
his  character  a  deep  religious  power,  a  most  firm 
faith  in  the  doctrines  he  preached.  Hence  the  great 
effects  of  his  ministry.  As  a  writer,  he  was  far  more 
abstruse  and  metaphysical  than  Channing.  But  his 
order  of  themes,  as  a  whole,  was  probably  unequal 
to  his.  If  his  intellect  was  deeper  or  stronger,  it 
certainly  was  not  so  expansive,  nor  of  so  fine  and  so 
high  a  quality  of  power,  as  that  of  Dr.  Channing.  He 
was  a  giant,  with  his  freedom  limited  by  the  impreg 
nable  walls  of  his  firm  theology ;  and,  through  his 
devotion  to  particular  tenets,  was  prevented  from 
standing  under  that  open  sky  where  the  universal 
truth  of  God  and  nature  could  speak  through  his 
mind  as  freely  as  it  did  in  the  discourse  of  Channing. 
Through  Edwards,  you  behold  Deity  in  the  stern 
grandeur  of  sovereignty :  through  Channing,  he 
dawns  upon  you  as  the  "  Parental  Divinity,"  in  the 
light  of  an  unbounded  love.  Man,  with  the  former, 
is,  by  nature,  wholly  corrupt :  man,  with  the  latter, 
inherits  a  nature  of  noblest  elements,  and  abounds  in 
every  age  with  bright  evidences  of  his  divine  original. 
But  we  will  not  go  into  further  theological  contrasts. 


128  CHANNING. 

The  deep  religious  element  of  Edwards  evidently 
needed  the  liberalization,  the  union  with  nature,  the 
tempering  of  love,  which  gave  elevation,  enlargement, 
and  power  to  the  writings  of  Channing.  Though 
compelled  by  truth  to  say,  that  Channing  had  a 
higher  quality,  a  wider  expansion,  and  a  more  quick 
ening  energy  of  mind  and  general  influence  than 
Edwards,  we  thankfully  and  joyfully  concede,  that 
each  did  a  useful  and  necessary  work  for  his  day. 

The  question  has  been  asked,  Will  Channing's 
name  go  down  to  future  times  with  increasing  bright 
ness  ?  or  is  it  now  in  its  zenith  ?  We  profess  no 
skill  in  prophecy ;  but  certainly  this  age  must  have 
grown  more  moral,  disinterested,  and  intellectual, 
than  we  have  believed  it  to  be,  if  such  a  writer  as 
he  is  as  yet  thoroughly  appreciated.  With  its  selfish 
and  sensual  attributes  still  remaining,  we  must  infer, 
that  much  distance  must  yet  be  passed  before  the 
spirit  of  the  age  can  meet  his  spirit  in  perfect  appre 
ciation. 

If  the  sources  of  his  future  influences  were  in  local 
establishments  or  in  sectarian  controversies,  it  would 
be  easy  to  answer  this  question.  But  such  is  not  the 
fact.  He  set  forth  great  and  universal  truths,  which 
cannot  die ;  and,  as  a  successful  representative  of 
these,  we  must  believe  his  name  is  yet  to  brighten. 
Wherein  he  has  greatness,  it  belongs  not  to  the  tran 
sient,  but  to  the  perpetual.  We  would  also  add, 
that  the  catholic  tendency  of  the  human  mind  in 
creases.  Sects  and  nations  feel  this.  And,  as  man 
ascends  from  the  local  to  the  universal,  such  an 
author  must  accumulate  power.  Life  animates  his 


CHANNING. 


page  ;  beauty  belongs  to  his  style  ;  and,  what  is  not 
least,  naturalness  belongs  to  his  character  and  to 
his  communication.  The  world  slowly  outgrows  a 
mind  of  which  these  three  things  may  be  affirmed. 
Reading  Channing  puts  us  into  communion  with  the 
goodness,  greatness,  beauty,  and  sublimity  of  God 
and  the  creation ;  and  whoever  will  do  this,  we  will 
call  great,  for  he  is  so  to  us. 

Perhaps  no  one  fact  attests  his  genuine  superiority 
more  than  the  growing  and  widening  tendency  of 
his  mind  through  the  later  period  of  his  life.  It 
is  natural  for  age  to  retrench  itself  behind  old  limits 
and  opinions.  But  it  was  the  reverse  with  Chan 
ning.  His  hopes  for  mankind  grew  brighter,  his 
natural  enthusiasm  stronger,  and  his  views  enlarged, 
as  he  came  into  what  is  usually  called  the  autumn 
and  winter  of  life.  He  Avas  more  than  ever  impa 
tient  of  restraint,  was  looking  over  new  fields  of 
thought,  and  standing  in  the  radius  of  a  widening 
circle  of  views,  when  called  from  this  to  the  higher 
world.  This  to  us  is  a  beautiful  and  highly  signi 
ficant  fact. 

But  we  draw  our  remarks  to  a  close.  We  have 
imperfectly  discussed  a  pure  life,  a  great  mind.  We 
are  more  than  rewarded,  if  our  remarks  may  incite 
a  new  interest  in  his  character  and  works;  for  we 
are  conscious  of  writing  for  many  who  have  never 
tarried  long  among  his  thoughts.  It  is  too  true,  that 
he  is  still  praised  by  some  who  know  him  from  his 
reputation,  much  more  than  fromjwhat  he  has  com 
municated  to  the  world. 

The  last  spring  of  Dr.  Channing's  life  was  passed 


130  CHANNING. 

in  central  Pennsylvania,  among  the  beauties  of  Wy 
oming,  the  Juniata,  and  the  Susquehannah  vales. 
The  summer  was  passed  in  Lenox,  Mass,  where,  on 
a  bright  day,  his  voice  was  heard  in  public  for  the 
last  time.  His  topic  was  West  India  Emancipation. 
In  September,  he  started  for  Boston,  through  the 
passes  of  the  Green  Mountains,  but  was  arrested  at 
Bennington  by  an  attack  of  fever,  from  which  he 
never  recovered.  Twenty-six  days  he  lingered,  ex 
hibiting  the  same  elevated  mind  and  feelings  charac 
teristic  of  healthier  times.  Bat,  on  Sunday,  Oct.  2, 
1842,  amidst  the  calm  beauties  of  autumn,  when  the 
sun  had  gone  down,  his  gold  still  radiant  on  the 
clouds  and  hills,  he  looked  through  his  window 
eastward  into  his  reflected  beams  for  a  time,  then 
closed  his  eyes  in  death's  mysterious  sleep.  These 
last  days  wore  the  calmness  of  a  Christian's  faith. 

After  suitable  services  in  the  Federal-street  Church, 
Boston,  —  at  twilight,  "  among  the  shades  of  Mount 
Auburn,"  were  deposited  his  remains,  where  a  white 
marble  monument,  with  appropriate  inscriptions,  now 
tells  the  visitor  and  stranger  of  the  burial-place  of 
William  Ellery  Channing.  Good  brother  !  thy  voice 
is  not  silent !  Long  may  we  hear  it  in  deep,  celestial 
tones  summoning  us  to  nobler  faith  and  courage ! 
Long  may  it  be  the  reproof  of  our  selfishness  and 
unbelief ! 

If  one  word  may  express  the  true  position  of  this 
man  when  among  us,  it  is  this,  —  that,  more  than 
any  other  moral  teacher  of  his  time,  was  he  the 
Prophet  of  the  Age. 


131 


NATURAL  THEOLOGY. 


"  THE  BIBLE  DOCTRINE  OF  GOD,  JESUS  CHKIST,  THE  HOLY  SPIRIT, 
ATONEMENT,  FAITH,  ELECTION.  To  which  is  prefixed,  Some 
Thoughts  on  Natural  Theology,  and  the  Truth  of  Revelation. 
By  WILLIAM  KINXADE.  New  York,  1829." 

IT  is  always  unsafe  to  judge  of  what  a  master  knows, 
by  what  his  pupil  has  learned.  Particularly  is  it 
unsafe  so  to  do,  when  the  latter  has  sadly  misspent 
his  time,  and  has  but  carelessly  heeded  the  assidui 
ties  of  his  teacher  in  his  behalf.  What  Nature  and 
the  Soul  may  be  able  to  teach,  under  better  circum 
stances  on  the  part  of  the  learner,  and  what  men 
have  actually  learned,  are  questions  that  should  never 
be  confounded.  They  are  very  different,  and  much 
that  may  be  affirmed  of  the  one  cannot  be  said  of 
the  other.  If  angels  were  our  teachers,  their  success 
would  necessarily  be  limited  by  the  capacity,  atten 
tion,  and  diligence  of  their  pupils. 

Forgetting  this  distinction  between  the  master's 
knowledge  and  the  pupil's  attainment,  men  have 
judged,  that  through  natural  light  the  idea  of  a 
Supreme  Being  and  of  an  immortal  life  could  never 
dawn  upon  the  world ;  that  the  facts  of  mind  and 
matter  could  not  evidence  a  Divine  existence  and  a 
future  life.  Taking  nature  as  a  teacher,  we  are  not, 


132  NATURAL    THEOLOGY. 

as  already  observed,  to  limit  its  capacity  to  what 
mankind  have  already  learned  ;  for  every  year  adds 
some  new  discoveries.  New  truths  are  constantly 
being  unfolded.  Nature  is  but  partially  explored. 
And  that  mankind  are  destined  to  know  more  of  its 
hidden  truths  than  they  have  heretofore  attained  is 
indeed  a  safe  position,  if  we  but  remember  the  inex- 
haustibleness  of  its  science,  and  the  present  narrow 
boundaries  of  all  that  may  be  called  human  know 
ledge. 

But,  even  measuring  the  master  by  the  scholar, 
we  must  come  to  no  mean  conclusions  in  reference 
to  nature  as  a  religious  teacher ;  for  man  has  not 
only  gathered  the  various  wealth  of  science  from  its 
laws,  but  has  quite  universally  received  the  ideas  of 
a  Supreme  Power,  of  moral  right,  of  an  overruling 
Providence,  and  of  eternal  life.  These  ideas  of 
natural  theology  may  be  traced  through  every  form 
of  superstitious  belief,  and  in  lands  perfectly  ignorant 
of  the  Hebrew  and  the  Christian  Scriptures.  Poly 
theism,  whilst  it  affirmed  a  sort  of  divine  omnipres 
ence  in  nature  through  its  multiplicity  of  gods,  never 
denied  a  Divine  Unity ;  for  it  always  broke  up  the 
equality  of  the  gods  by  giving  them  a  Supreme. 
This  must  always  be.  The  natural  world  instructs 
men  in  this  theory  of  centralization,  when  every  solar 
system  that  is  formed  leaves  a  sun,  a  sovereign  cen 
tre  mightier  than  all  the  rest.  And  human  society 
is  always  shaping  itself  after  this  view.  There  is 
always  a  first  in  every  group  ;  and  especially  would 
men  not  fail  to  acknowledge  a  Sovereign  Deity  over 
all  the  rest,  in  those  places  and  ages  when  the  ten- 


NATURAL    THEOLOGY.  133 

dencies  of  the  human  mind  were  so  strongly  given 
to  despotism,  when  individual  dignity  was  unac 
knowledged.  For  the  great  fact  of  human  inequality 
would  appear  enlarged  in  mythology,  until  the  pagan 
worshipper,  among  his  thousand  altars,  should  lift 
his  eyes  and  direct  his  prayers  to  one  greater  than 
all.  Paganism  confirms  the  idea  of  One  Supreme, 
even  when  its  worship  has  been  the  most  extensively 
polytheistic. 

The  gigantic  fact  in  the  Jewish  sacred  develop 
ment  was,  that  they  worshipped  the  spiritual  One, 
whilst  the  surrounding  nations  worshipped  the  mate 
rial  Many.  This  fact,  among  a  gross  people,  still 
towers  up  the  monumental  proof  of  a  divine  light 
shining  upon  them.  God  must  have  spoken  through 
other  than  voices  of  nature ;  for  Jews  were  never 
very  gifted  interpreters  of  such  voices.  But  Socrates 
in  Greece  believed  in  one  God.  So  did  Confucius, 
five  centuries  before  the  Christian  era.  Where  is  the 
evidence  that  either  owed  any  thing  to  the  Hebrew 
Scriptures  ?  Nature,  though  poorly  understood,  has 
taught  mankind  infinitely  more  than  tradition  ever 
contained ;  and  we  are  yet  uninstructed  in  the  pro 
priety  of  demanding,  that  all  persons  and  ages  should 
receive  a  given  truth  through  the  same  channel.  St. 
Paul,  standing  on  the  same  idea,  alleged  that  the 
heathen  of  his  day,  who  had  no  written  revelation, 
were  a  law  to  themselves,  learning  the  eternal  power 
and  Godhead  from  the  visible  creation.* 

But  let  us  meet  the  question  at  once,  Is  nature 

*  Rom.  i.  20. 
12 


134  NATURAL  THEOLOGY. 

competent  to  teach  the  being  of  God  ?  Can  it  assure 
us  of  his  attributes  ?  Can  it  teach  his  immortality,  — 
his  goodness  ?  Can  it  assure  us  of  his  unity  ?  These 
are  great  questions ;  and  we  are  aware,  that  a  differ 
ence  of  opinion  has  obtained  among  those  whose 
capacity  and  love  of  truth  entitle  them  to  high 
respect. 

When  we  ask  what  nature  is  competent  to  teach, 
we  have  some  idea  in  our  minds  of  what  nature  is. 
And  I  apprehend,  that,  in  common  discourse,  the 
only  idea  attached  to  this  word  by  many  refers 
wholly  to  the  external  universe ;  and,  in  measuring 
what  nature  may  teach,  they  only  attempt  to  ascer 
tain  what  may  be  learned  from  observations  and 
reasonings  on  the  external  world.  But  this  is  far 
from  being  a  just  ideal,  since  the  human  soul  is  a 
higher  order  of  nature  than  suns  and  stars ;  for  the 
magnificence  and  glory  of  these  would  be  unknown 
but  for  an  evident  superiority  of  soul  which  is  akin 
to  all  the  magnificence  and  glory  of  the  visible  world. 
The  soul,  it  should  not  be  forgotten,  in  all  its  aspirar 
lions  and  elements,  is  as  much  nature  as  the  seas 
and  the  continents ;  and,  inasmuch  as  its  order  of 
faculties  is  highest,  more  light  on  problems  of  theo 
logy  should  be  expected  from  it  than  from  the 
material  earth  and  heavens.  Human  worship,  phi 
losophy,  goodness,  hope,  as  phenomena  of  the  soul 
(so  all  human  history),  belong  to  the  lawful  data  of 
just  reasoning  on  this  topic. 

The  clearest,  ablest,  and,  we  will  add,  the  most 
original  statement  of  the  argument,  setting  forth  the 
inability  of  nature  to  suggest  and  confirm  the  idea 


NATURAL    THEOLOGY.  135 

of  one  God  and  the  immortal  life  to  any  portion  of 
mankind,  that  has  ever  come  under  our  notice,  is 
found  in  the  writings  of  the  Rev.  William  Kinkade  ; 
and  a  part  of  this  article  will  therefore  be  a  review 
of  his  argument,  entitled  "  Natural  Theology."  The 
bold  vigor  of  the  author's  mind  has  given  a  freshness 
and  a  commanding  force  to  his  views,  that  make 
his  argument  deeply  interesting ;  and  we  think  we 
are  not  mistaken  in  the  conviction,  that  very  many 
of  his  readers  have  founded  their  sacred  philosophy 
upon  it. 

In  the  vigorous  style  of  the  following  lines,  our 
author's  position  is  announced :  — 

"  There  is  not  one  inch  of  rational  ground  between 
Christianity  and  Atheism.  Independently  of  the  Bible, 
or  some  supernatural  revelation,  we  could  never  ascertain 
the  existence  of  God.  Many  Christians  contend,  that  the 
existence  of  God  may  be  learned  from  the  works  of  nature  ; 
but  I  believe  they  all  confess,  that  they  cannot  teach  any 
correct  knowledge  of  his  attributes.  Then  I  contend, 
that,  if  nature  can  give  us  no  certain  knowledge  of  his 
attributes,  she  can  give  us  no  assurance  of  his  present 
existence,  because,  if  she  cannot  assure  us  that  he  pos 
sesses  the  attribute  of  immortality,  she  cannot  assure  us 
that  he  now  lives.  We  never  could  ascertain  from  the 
works  of  nature,  that  God  is  immortal ;  but,  on  the  con 
trary,  reasoning  from  effect  to  cause,  and  seeing  all  his 
works  perishable,  we  should  naturally  be  led  to  think 
that  the  author  would  also  die,  because  it  is  a  maxim  in 
the  laws  of  nature,  that  like  produces  like ;  and  if  God  is 
like  the  things  he  has  produced,  he  must  be  mortal: 
therefore,  for  any  thing  that  nature  teaches  to  the  con 
trary,  he  may  have  died  long  ago." 


136  NATURAL    THEOLOGY. 

The  great  regularity  with  which  nature  now  moves 
is  to  our  author  no  proof  that  Deity  now  exists,  since 
the  system  might  continue  to  operate  from  the  prin 
ciples  at  first  received  from  the  Creator,  or  it  might 
be  governed  by  subordinate  agents. 

No  man  probably  ever  paid  a  higher  homage  to 
revelation,  as  distinguished  from  nature,  than  the 
author  whose  words  are  here  quoted ;  and  whatever 
may  appear  as  irreverence  to  the  latter,  as  a  me 
dium  of  religious  light,  only  evinces  the  fulness  of 
his  belief  in  the  supernatural  order  of  divine  commu 
nication. 

In  the  premises  assumed,  it  should  be  denied  that 
"  all  confess  that  the  works  of  nature  cannot  teach 
any  correct  knowledge  of  his  attributes ; "  for  this 
admission  has  never  been  general  among  the  advo 
cates  of  natural  theology.  Indeed,  -what  kind  of  a 
universe  must  that  be  which  should  be  able  to  teach 
us  the  being  of  God,  and  remain  silent  concerning  his 
attributes  ?  The  being  of  God,  when  taught,  implies 
that  we  have  an  idea  of  him  as  God.  If  nature 
teaches  the  existence  of  a  Creator,  it  is  impossible 
that  she  should  be  silent  concerning  his  attributes ; 
for  it  is  a  certain  and  necessary  inference,  that  a 
Creator  must  have  as  much  Avisdom  and  might  as 
his  creation  displays.  He  may  have  more,  but  he 
cannot  have  less.  As  the  external  universe  is  bound 
less  both  to  the  imagination  and  the  sense,  and  as  it 
is  everywhere  the  expression  of  a  wisdom  and  power 
greater  than  we  may  attempt  to  measure,  we  must, 
on  the  simple  and  necessary  principles  of  reason, 
ascribe  the  same  illimitable  wisdom  and  might  to  the 


NATURAL    THEOLOGY.  137 

Being  from  whom  the  creation  proceeded.  How 
could  a  grand  poem,  that  should  convince  us  of  the 
existence  of  a  great  poetic  genius,  fail  to  exhibit 
the  attributes  of  his  intellect  ?  How  can  any  great 
work  fail  to  express  some  principal  attributes  in  the 
originating  mind  ?  It  is  in  itself  impossible.  Who, 
being  assured  of  the  mere  fact  that  God  made  the 
worlds,  could  look  around  on  this  varied  earth  filled 
with  the  supplies  of  every  want,  and  lift  his  eyes  to 
the  serene  fields  of  stars  above,  without  seeing,  in 
the  midst  of  the  endless  adaptations  of  things,  the 
infallible  proofs  that  a  Being,  capable  of  originating 
a  universe  like  this,  must  be  wise  and  mighty,  beyond 
the  capacity  of  man  to  express  ?  We  object,  there 
fore,  to  the  concession  claimed  in  the  premises  by 
Mr.  Kinkade.  It  is  plainly  arid  palpably  unreason 
able.  Neither  has  it  generally  been  made. 

But  does  nature,  under  the  easiest  and  simplest 
interpretations,  in  the  absence  of  revelation,  intimate 
the  mortality  of  its  Creator,  even  on  the  principle 
that  like  produces  like  ?  For,  in  judging  of  what 
nature  teaches,  we  must  take  it  as  a  whole,  —  at 
least,  we  should  judge  from  all  that  we  know  of  it, 
and  riot  from  a  part.  Now,  does  nature  in  fact  ever 
perish  ?  Is  there,  strictly  speaking,  a  mortal  and 
perishing  element  in  all  its  wide  and  beautiful  do 
main  ?  Science  and  philosophy  have  long  since 
answered  these  questions  in  the  negative.  The  great 
balance  of  nature  preaches  permanency ;  for  the 
laws  that  preside  over  all  material  changes  are  death 
less.  All  the  natural  laws  and  all  substance  are,  so 

far  as  we  may  know,  immortal ;  whence  it  follows, 
12* 


138  NATURAL  THEOLOGY. 

that  Deity,  judged  from   his  works  alone,  is  also 
everlasting. 

It  is  plain  that  the  writer  of  the  argument  now 
considered,  made  that  limited  portion  of  nature, 
which  exhibits  the  phenomena  of  dissolution  to  each 
generation,  to  stand  as  the  type  of  all  nature.  The 
flowers  wither,  the  trees  decay.  Organizations  of 
life  dissolve  before  us.  But  how  small  a  fraction 
of  universal  nature  are  these !  Do  the  stars  fade 
before  the  eyes  of  any  generation  ?  Does  the  mild 
queen  of  night  perish  from  the  skies  ?  Is  not  this  the 
sun  that  poured  light  into  the  path  of  the  first  man  ? 
Does  nature  ever  grow  old  ?  And  does  nature  ever 
die  ?  Nature  is  always  full  of  deathless  energy,  is 
always  young,  and  never  allows  an  element  or  a 
law  to  perish.  The  law  of  decay  or  dissolution, 
being  one  of  the  laws  of  nature,  is  a  part  of  the  crea 
tion  of  God  to  him  who  is  assured  that  God  made 
the  world  ;  and  to  suppose  the  possibility  of  the 
Creator  falling  a  victim  to  its  power  is  to  suppose 
him  inferior  to  a  law  of  his  own  creation,  which  is 
manifestly  absurd.  Reason  alone  teaches  that  dis 
solution  ministers  to  a  benevolent  end,  that  it  is 
necessary  that  the  vegetable,  animal,  and  human 
races  should  die ;  and  to  suppose  it  possible  that  a 
Being,  capable  of  originating  a  universe  like  this, 
should  not  be  able  to  resist  the  agency  of  one  of  his 
own  limited  laws,  so  as  to  preserve  his  own  exist 
ence,  is  to  us  the  summit  of  folly,  to  which  reason 
and  nature  can  render  no  support.  And  to  imagine 
that  creation  could  go  on  by  the  direction  of  inferior 
agents  is  in  itself  a  suicidal  position,  since  all  beings 


NATURAL  THEOLOGY. 


139 


and  agents  under  God  are  necessarily  included  in 
the  word  creation,  and  therefore  cannot  be  logically 
distinguished  from  it  as  governors. 

In  further  support  of  the  utter  destitution  of  all 
spiritual  light  in  nature,  the  author  says,  —  "  If  we 
should  admit  that  our  Creator  exists,  and  that  he  is 
wise  and  merciful,  still,  if  we  have  no  assurance  that 
he  is  immutable,  there  can  be  no  certainty  that  he 
will  exist  in  future,  or  that,  if  he  should,  he  will  then 
be  wise  and  merciful."  *  This  affirmation  is  founded 
on  the  previous  assumption,  that  nature  cannot  teach 
the  unchangeability  of  its  author ;  but,  as  we  have 
shown,  the  vastness  of  the  idea  involved  in  the  con 
ception  of  Creator  implies  that  he  is  superior  to  the 
universe  (which,  indeed,  is  greater  than  man  is  able 
to  know),  the  inference  of  reason  is  plainly  in  favor 
of  his  immutability.  Nay,  more,  it  is  certain  that 
a  Being  able  to  create  a  law  is  able  to  control  and 
direct  it.  And  the  mere  fact  that  such  a  Being 
exists,  as  wise  and  merciful,  is  evidence  that  he  will 
always  so  remain ;  for  the  preachings  of  nature  pro 
claim  most  of  all  the  Eternal,  the  Changeless,  the 
Everlasting.  "Like,"  it  is  true,  "produces  like;" 
though  too  much  must  not  be  inferred  from  this,  else 
we  may  demand  too  great  a  resemblance  between 
man  and  the  temples  he  builds.  But  we  welcome 
the  principle  fully  for  argument-sake,  and  say  that 
"  nature  remains,  all  living  and  throbbing  with 
mighty  and  unexhausted  forces ;  and,  if  God  is  like 
it,  he  also  lives  unexhausted  and  mighty."  This  is 

*  Pa°re  10. 


140  NATURAL    THEOLOGY. 

the  nature-sermon  coming  from  all  this  vast  array  of 
worlds,  from  the  everlasting  Permanence  that  under 
lies  and  supports  all  phenomenal  change. 

"  That  man,"  says  Mr.  Kinkade,  "  without  revelation, 
could  form  no  correct  ideas  of  the  divine  attributes,  is 
clearly  proved  by  the  heathen.  Although  they  had  some 
knowledge  of  God  by  tradition  from  their  ancestors,  yet, 
being  destitute  of  the  Scriptures,  they  could  form  no  very 
correct  ideas  of  his  attributes ;  hence,  they  always  have, 
and  still  do,  ascribe  to  their  gods  the  most  malignant 
passions  and  abominable  conduct 

"  Rom.  i.  20  has  been  quoted  to  prove,  that  a  know 
ledge  of  God  may  be  derived  from  the  works  of  creation : 
'  For  the  invisible  things  of  him,  from  the  creation  of  the 
world,  are  clearly  seen,  being  understood  by  things  that 
are  made,  even  his  eternal  power  and  Godhead.'  It  is 
hardly  probable  that  St.  Paul  intended  to  hold  out  the 
idea,  that  the  people  of  whom  he  then  spake  had  received 
their  first  knowledge  of  God  from  the  works  of  nature, 
because  he  must  have  known  that  they  received  it  from 
their  parents  ;  of  course,  he  only  intended  to  hold  out  the 
idea,  that,  to  people  who  knew  that  God  made  the  world, 
creation  is  a  great  display  of  his  eternal  power  and  God 
head.  If  they  got  their  first  ideas  of  God  by  viewing 
creation,  they  could  not  have  lost  these  ideas  while  they 
kept  it  in  view.  If  all  my  knowledge  of  an  artist  is 
derived  from  viewing  his  works,  I  cannot  lose  that  know 
ledge,  while  I  continue  to  behold  those  works.  If  the 
knowledge  of  God  flows  from  the  works  of  nature,  as  a 
stream  from  a  fountain,  the  stream  cannot  dry  up  while 
the  fountain  continues  the  same.  But  the  apostle  informs 
us,  that  those  people  did  lose  the  knowledge  of  God ; 
that  they  became  vain  in  their  imaginations,  and  that  their 


NATURAL  THEOLOGV.  141 

foolish  hearts  were  darkened ;  and  that,  as  they  did  not 
like  to  retain  God  in  their  knowledge,  he  gave  them  over 
to  a  reprobate  mind."  —  Page  11. 

The  statement,  that  the  vast  millions  of  the  pagan 
world  received  all  their  limited  light  through  tradi 
tion  from  their  ancestors,  is  merely  assumptive.  It 
might  indeed  be  very  difficult  to  ascertain  their  most 
remote  ancestors,  and,  still  more  so,  to  prove  that 
tradition  was  the  medium  of  their  whole  religious 
intelligence.  There  is  an  historical  darkness  on  this 
subject  that  should  neutralize  all  positive  assertion 
in  relation  to  the  general  state  of  the  heathen  world. 
That  the  pagan  worshipper  should  ascribe  human 
passions  to  his  gods  is  by  no  means  strange,  ad 
mitting  the  hypothesis  that  he  has  some  religious 
light  from  nature ;  for  man,  in  every  age  of  the  world, 
has  carried  into  his  worship  a  measure  of  the  weak 
ness  and  imperfection  of  his  own  character.  The  Jew 
ish  worshipper  is  also  obnoxious  to  this  charge  ;  for 
human  and  violent  passions  were  often  ascribed  to 
the  Being  adored.  From  the  necessity  of  the  case,  — 
although  man's  worship  is  the  purest  issue  of  his 
inward  life,  —  the  state  of  mind,  in  any  given  age 
from  which  worship  proceeds,  exhibits  itself  in  the 
views  adopted,  and  the  homage  given. 

But  is  Mr.  Kinkade  really  sound,  when  he  says 
that  men  could  not  lose  the  knowledge  of  God,  pro 
vided  that  knowledge  flowed  from  natural  sources  ? 
He  says,  while  the  sources  remain,  the  knowledge 
or  the  effect  must  also  remain.  This,  indeed,  might 
be  true,  if  intelligence  came  to  the  human  mind  as 


142 


NATURAL  THEOLOGY. 


the  river  flows  from  its  many  springs  ;  but  we  are 
conscious  of  a  power  by  which  we  may  close  our 
eyes  to  the  brightest  lights,  to  the  truth  and  beauty 
of  the  divinest  writings,  and  to  the  many  proofs  of 
that  Sacred  Presence  which  makes  the  universe 
alive  with  worship  and  love.  Do  we  not  often  see 
men  becoming  stupid  and  dead  to  the  noblest  influ 
ences  of  the  natural  world  ?  Do  they  not  grow  deaf 
to  its  highest  teachings  ?  Are  not  the  soul's  more 
sacred  voices  often  silenced  and  drowned  by  the 
lower  passions,  and  by  the  degradation  and  thral 
dom  of  sin  ?  God  is  invisible.  Mankind,  to  know 
him,  must  seek  him ;  must  stand  in  the  light  of  his 
various  manifestation  ;  and  must,  from  the  soul  within 
and  from  the  world  without,  welcome  the  light  that 
reflects  his  wisdom,  purity,  goodness,  and  power. 
There  is,  we  think,  a  deep  philosophical  truth  in  the 
idea  that  we  really  know  God,  from  a  Avisdom, 
purity,  justice,  and  love  in  our  own  breasts,  that  are 
kindred  to  these  attributes  as  infinitely  expanded  in 
him.  "  The  pure  in  heart  shall  see  God."  Here 
is  the  deep  truth.  And  by  it  is  clearly  seen,  that, 
amidst  the  living  wonders  of  nature,  and  the  great 
ness  of  inspired  pages,  men  may  cease  to  know  the 
Creator,  and  bow  to  the  low  and  the  sensual.  Thus, 
to  a  people  who  had  listened  to  the  words  of  Chris 
tian  apostles,  St.  Paul  said,  "  Awake  to  righteous 
ness,  and  sin  not ;  for  some  have  not  the  knowledge 
of  God :  I  speak  this  to  your  shame."  The  whole 
philosophy  of  the  Gentile  apostacy  was  fully  ex 
pressed,  when  the  apostle  alleged,  that  "  they  did  not 
like,  to  retain  God  in  their  knowledge ; "  and  a 


NATURAL    THEOLOGY.  143 

people  thus  inclined  may  turn  away  from  him,  and 
from  the  evidences  of  his  presence,  far  enough  cer 
tainly  to  be  worthy  of  being  considered  as  having 
lost  the  knowledge  of  their  Maker. 

Another  position  of  Mr.  Kinkade  is  quite  bold  and 
startling.  He  alleges,  that  the  human  mind,  unaided 
by  divine  revelation,  might  as  reasonably  infer,  that 
there  are  millions  of  gods,  as  that  there  is  but  one, 
because  the  opposite  character  of  so  many  things  in 
nature  could  not  to  reason  suggest  the  idea  of  a 
Divine  Unity.  This,  indeed,  may  have  been  the 
logic  of  men  in  times  when  nature  was  less  known  ; 
although  it  must  still  be  remembered,  that  the  variety 
characteristic  of  polytheistic  worship,  was  pervaded 
by  the  unity  of  some  sovereign  Jove,  who  held  a 
sway  of  power  over  all.  Let  us  further  state  the 
premises  and  conclusions  of  the  author  before  us :  — 

"  If  the  book  of  nature  could  teach  the  knowledge  of 
God  correctly,  then  all  the  heathen,  drawing  their  know 
ledge  from  the  same  source,  would  think  of  him  alike, 
and  would  all  believe  in  but  one  God.  But  we  find  that 
they  are  all  polytheists,  and  differ  widely  in  relation  to 
the  number  and  attributes  of  their  gods. 

"  I  have  never  talked  with  a  person  who  would  testify, 
that  his  first  ideas  of  God  were  formed  from  the  study  of 
nature  ;  but,  on  the  contrary,  I  have  uniformly  found,  that 
mankind,  whether  savage  or  civilized,  receive  their  first 
ideas  of  the  Deity  from  their  ancestors.  If  a  man,  in 
possession  of  all  the  senses  of  mature  age,  who  had  never 
seen  nor  heard  of  a  creature  like  himself,  should,  in  five 
minutes  after  he  got  his  existence,  see  a  water-mill,  he 
would  be  as  unable  to  account  for  it,  as  for  the  stream 


144  NATURAL    THEOLOGY. 

that  propelled  it ;  but,  after  he  would  get  acquainted  with 
men,  and  learn  from  them  that  a  certain  man  made  the 
mill,  that  information  would  enable  him  to  discover  in 
the  machine  the  skill  of  the  artist.  Just  so,  after  we  are 
informed  by  revelation  that  there  is  a  God,  and  that  he 
made  the  worlds,  that  information  gives  the  works  of 
nature  a  voice  to  display  to  us  the  wisdom  of  the  Creator  ; 
and  every  trace  of  intelligence  we  discover  in  the  mecha 
nism  of  nature  is  a  corroborating  proof  of  his  wisdom. 

"  If  a  man  who  had  never  seen  nor  heard  of  a  book 
should  find  the  history  of  the  Arabs  containing  the  Al 
coran,  written  in  Arabic,  it  would  not  inform  him  that 
there  was  such  a  man  as  Mahomet,  or  that  there  is  such 
a  nation  as  the  Arabs.  And,  if  he  should  keep  it  his  life 
time,  and  never  meet  with  a  person  who  had  seen  any 
other  book  except  it,  and  never  came  in  contact  with 
any  person  who  had  seen  or  heard  of  Mahomet  or  of  the 
Arabs,  and  should  never  see  or  hear  them  himself,  he 
would  die,  not  only  without  the  knowledge  of  their  reli 
gion  and  laws,  but  also  without  the  knowledge  of  their 
existence.  So  we  may  have  the  volume  of  nature  before 
us  till  we  die ;  and,  unless  the  author  should  reveal  him 
self  directly  or  through  prophets,  it  could  never  teach  us 
his  existence,  much  less  his  attributes  and  laws.  If  the 
man  who  found  this  book  should  meet  with  an  Arabian 
who  could  teach  him  to  read  Arabic  perfectly,  then  that 
knowledge  would  enable  him  to  learn  from  the  book  the 
existence,  religion,  laws,  and  customs  of  those  people. 
Just  so,  after  God  had  revealed  himself  to  us  by  the  pro 
phets,  and  informed  us  that  he  made  all  things,  then, 
through  that  information,  '  the  heavens  declare  the  glory 
of  God,  and  the  firmament  showeth  his  handiwork.'  " 

We  will  not  pause  to  sift  the  logic  of  these  strong 


NATURAL  THEOLOGY.  145 

paragraphs,  until  we  have  heard  the  author  plainly 
state  the  reason  why  nature  is  so  dumb  and  speech 
less  concerning  the  greatest  truth  that  man  or  angel 
ever  received.  Here  it  is :  — 

"  Although  there  is  nothing  in  the  Bible  contrary  to 
reason,  yet  its  truths  never  could  have  been  discovered  by 
reason,  because  men  cannot  reason  without  something  to 
reason  on.  The  best  mechanic  cannot  construct  a  ma 
chine,  without  materials ;  the  blind  man  who  never  saw 
cannot  reason  on  colors ;  nor  can  the  deaf  man  who  never 
heard,  reason  on  sounds.  Just  so  I  think  of  those  who 
never  heard  of  God  by  revelation :  they  could  reason  no 
thing  about  him.  The  reason  why  nature  cannot  impart  to 
us  the  knowledge  of  God  is  because  she  does  not  possess  it 
herself.  Neither  the  earth,  the  water,  nor  the  air,  knows 
God  :  they  know  nothing.  How,  then,  can  they  commu 
nicate  to  us  the  most  sublime  of  all  knowledge  ?  " 

If  we  may  be  allowed  to  speak  a  word  of  the 
venerable  author's  intellect,  before  we  examine  the 
ground  covered  by  the  foregoing  extracts,  we  should 
utter  the  impression,  that,  whilst  it  is  uncommonly 
strong  and  clear,  it  is  almost  destitute  of  what  may 
be  termed  a  wide  philosophical  analysis.  Where 
this  is  possessed,  there  will  be  at  least  a  sufficient 
comprehensiveness  in  the  premises  selected.  No  one 
can  read  the  last  paragraph  quoted,  without  being 
convinced  that  the  mere  outward  elements,  such  as 
water,  earth,  and  air,  comprised  all  that  he  meant 
by  this  word  of  most  unlimited  meaning,  —  nature. 
This  idea  appears  frequently  in  the  entire  article,  in 
which  there  is  not  a  sentence  intimating  that  the 
13 


146  NATURAL    THEOLOGY. 

human  soul,  which  is  our  only  power  of  intelligence, 
is  a  part  of  nature,  when  spoken  of  as  a  teacher. 
This  alone  is  a  great  deficiency,  and  constantly  com 
pels  an  erroneous  reasoning. 

But,  to  go  back  to  the  supposed  intimations  of 
nature  in  favor  of  many  gods.  To  us  no  inference 
is  more  unnatural,  or  more  strongly  contradicted  by 
a  reasonable  interpretation  of  the  facts  of  the  uni 
verse  falling  under  our  notice.  Man,  the  chief  of 
these  facts,  is  himself  a  unit ;  and,  from  the  unity 
of  his  own  consciousness,  he  naturally  and  neces 
sarily  infers  the  unity  of  the  Creator.  And  that,  in 
attempting  to  solve  the  problem  of  creation,  reason 
should  rest  in  One  Supreme,  is  a  result  most  natural 
from  the  strong  tendency  of  the  human  mind  to  find 
a  centre,  to  recognize  one  as  greater  than  all.  This 
tendency,  strengthened  by  the  very  constitution  of 
nature  external,  and  of  society,  whether  in  great 
masses  or  in  small  groups,  is  always  breaking  forth 
into  human  reasoning.  There  will  be  a  monarch  - 
summit  blending  in  harmony  with  what  is  less. 
Mont  Blanc  symbolizes  a  universal  truth.  But,  waiv 
ing  the  consideration  that  a  natural  tendency  moves 
the  mind  to  fix  on  One  Supreme,  aided  by  a  condi 
tion  of  things  which  never  fails  to  carry  our  thoughts 
from  positive  on  to  superlative,  let  us  advance  to 
draw  from  nature  a  direct  proof  that  the  attributes 
of  only  One  God  are  stamped  upon  it. 

To  begin  with  the  outward  universe,  do  we  not 
see  everywhere  exhibited  the  traces  of  order  and  of 
uniformity?  You  cannot  ordinarily  travel  a  thou 
sand  miles  over  the  area  of  human  government,  with- 


NATURAL  THEOLOGY.  147 

out  being  impressed,  from  its  contradictions,  with  a 
multiplicity  of  lawgivers  and  administrators.  But 
travel,  study,  and  examine  the  natural  world,  tread 
the  soil  of  every  clime,  sail  on  every  sea,  and 
watch  the  stars  that  brighten  the  night  of  every 
season  and  the  skies  of  every  land,  penetrating 
nature  with  all  the  science  that  ages  have  accumu 
lated,  and  no  clash  or  contradiction  of  laws  will 
force  upon  your  thoughts  a  multiplicity  of  lawgivers. 
Light  and  gravitation  are  the  same  in  Canton  as  in 
New  England.  Accordant  laws  are  always  unfold 
ing,  and  no  new  fact  can  suggest  a  different  Deity 
from  him  whom  the  old  and  the  known  facts  pro 
claim.  Were  we  gifted  to  look  through  the  material 
world,  and  to  trace  its  order  from  system  to  system, 
and  to  receive  knowledge  of  all  the  laws  that  reign 
over  the  now  unknown  fields  of  immensity,  we 
should  not,  from  the  new  developments  of  nature 
and  truth,  be  compelled  to  stand  opposed  to  what 
we  knew  before,  but  only  discover  in  these  new 
evidences  of  the  wisdom,  power,  and  love  of  Him 
whom  the  more  familiar  scenes  of  previous  observa 
tion  had  proclaimed  as  God.  Now,  this  harmony  of 
nature  proves  something  about  the  origin  of  the  uni 
verse  it  pervades  ;  and  what  can  it  more  naturally 
teach,  than  that  it  has  one  great  Source  ?  What  can 
it  more  plainly  teach,  than  that  the  universe  sprung 
from  One  Omniscient  Being  ?  Where  are  the  dis 
cords  and  contradictions  that  even  intimate  to  a 
wide  form  of  reason,  that  nature  originated  in  more 
than  one  creative  Mind?  There  are  none.  They 
are  parts  of  an  infinite  harmony. 


148  NATURAL   THEOLOGY. 

Without  applying  the  same  view  to  the  laws 
which  pervade  the  empire  of  mind,  we  would  pass 
on  to  notice  another  of  our  author's  arguments, 
namely,  that  if  nature  could  give  to  men  a  know 
ledge  of  God,  then  all  the  heathen,  drawing  their 
views  from  the  same  source,  would  think  alike  con 
cerning  him.  This  needs  but  a  single  remark  ;  for  it 
is  clear,  that  men  of  every  grade  of  intelligence  are 
capable  of  interpreting  nature  differently,  not  only  in 
relation  to  things  sacred  and  religious,  but  those  which 
are  purely  matters  of  science.  The  Bible,  says  our 
author,  is  the  only  and  true  source  of  light.  But  do 
all  who  read  it  think  alike  of  the  Deity  and  his  attri 
butes  ? 

Further  support  is  sought  by  Mr.  Kinkade  in  the 
circumstance,  that  none  with  whom  he  has  ever  con 
versed  would  testify  that  their  first  ideas  of  God 
were  received  from  nature,  but  that  they  invariably 
derived  them  from  their  ancestors.  This,  at  first 
view,  appears  a  weighty  fact.  But  what  is  the  con 
clusion  it  justifies  ?  That  nature  never  suggested  to 
men  the  being  and  presence  of  God  ?  This  we  very 
much  doubt.  For  it  might  be  said  of  each  and  all 
with  whom  Mr.  Kinkade  ever  conversed,  that  their 
first  idea  of  the  sun,  as  being  the  centre  of  the  solar 
system,  was  not  received  from  nature,  but  from  pa 
rents,  guardians,  and  teachers.  Would  this  prove 
nature  unable  to  teach  Copernicus,  that  the  sun  was 
central  in  his  position  among  his  family  of  worlds  ? 
From  the  very  condition  of  mankind,  commencing 
in  infancy,  their  first  ideas  on  most  subjects  must 
come  from  persons  further  advanced  than  themselves 


NATURAL  THEOLOGY.  149 

in  knowledge  and  experience.  But  this  can  never 
prove  how  much  or  how  little  mankind,  through 
the  long  ages  of  their  existence,  have  learned  from 
intuition  and  reflection,  and  study  of  the  external 
world.  Yet  is  it  true,  that  any  man  ever  knew  God 
through  any  traditional  communication  ?  .  To  listen 
to  a  report,  however  hallowed  by  antiquity,  saying 
that  a  wise,  kind,  and  infinite  Being  made  the  world, 
is  not  to  know  such  a  Being.  To  know  the  name 
which  men  bestow  upon  the  Creator  is  not  to  know 
him.  Truly  speaking,  no  man  ever  knew  any  thing 
more  about  God  than  he  himself  has  observed, 
thought,  and  •  felt,  of  his  nature  and  presence.  It  is 
only  from  experience  that  this  knowledge  comes. 
Through  the  wisdom  and  goodness  of  the  soul  within 
us,  we  are  able  to  conceive  of  the  Creator's  wisdom 
and  goodness.  The  wisdom  and  goodness  of  God 
appear  in  all  his  works.  Once  shut  out  from  the 
soul  these  living  rays  from  the  external  world,  and 
take  away  from  it  the  consciousness  of  qualities  simi 
lar  to  those  it  adores  in  God,  and  all  the  sacred 
traditions  that  ever  Avon  the  ear  from  Adam  until 
now,  though  poured  forth  in  an  angel's  eloquence, 
could  never  impart  to  a  human  being  the  idea  of 
God.  The  elements  through  which  success  is  pos 
sible  would  be  gone.  Is  not  God's  thunder-voice  from 
the  cloud  better  than  a  hearsay  from  the  olden  time  ? 
Is  not  this  mighty,  living,  boundless,  and  beautiful 
universe,  with  the  worshipful  action  of  the  soul,  a 
nobler  proof  that  God  exists,  than  a  mere  report  of 
what  our  ancestors  believed  ? 

The  illustrations  through  which  Mr.  Kinkade  un- 
13* 


150  NATURAL   THEOLOGY. 

folds  his  views  add  no  new  argument  to  his  position, 
although  they  set  it  very  forcibly  before  us.  That 
man,  however,  should  be  supposed  to  be  as  ignorant 
of  nature,  without  direct  revelation,  as  the  individ 
ual  he  supposes  is  of  the  machine  and  the  stream 
propelling  it,  is  to  us  a  conjecture  as  much  at  war 
with  our  reason,  as  it  is  with  the  experience  and 
history  of  the  race.  That  the  volume  of  nature,  so 
called,  should  be  to  mankind,  whose  very  life  is 
written  upon  its  pages,  as  dead  a  speech  as  is  the 
Arabic  volume  to  him  who  has  never  heard  of  a  book 
or  known  a  letter,  is  also  full  of  the  same  darkness 
that  enters  into  all  his  figures  on  this  topic. 

We  should  now  have  done  with  the  reasonings  of 
Mr.  Kinkade,  did  not  his  strongest  argument  remain 
to  be  stated.  It  is  in  substance  this :  Nothing  in 
the  empire  of  nature  can  grow  without  a  seed  ; 
neither  can  ideas  spring  from  nothing.  Man  must 
have  previous  materials  for  every  character  he  con 
structs,  for  every  theory  he  builds.  Now,  the  elements 
out  of  which  the  idea  of  God  may  be  formed  not 
being  in  nature,  and  the  mind  having  no  power  to 
originate  an  absolutely  new  idea,  the  mere  fact  that 
the  belief  of  his  existence  is  found  in  the  world 
amounts  to  a  proof,  that  revelation  alone  gave  to 
mankind  the  idea  of  a  Creator. 

This  popular,  and,  as  it  would  seem  at  first  sight, 
philosophical  argument  challenges  us  to  analyze  our 
noblest  conceptions  of  Deity,  to  ascertain  whether 
the  incapacity  of  man  to  originate  a  new  idea  is  any 
proof  that  none  unvisited  by  divine  revelation  could 
ever  have  believed  in  their  Creator. 


NATURAL  THEOLOGY. 

What  idea  or  view  of  God  is  it,  we  ask,  that  has 
no  previous  elements  for  its  construction  in  man,  and 
in  the  world  about  him  ?  for  different  ideas  are 
theoretically  avowed.  What  attributes  are  there 
belonging  to  him,  of  whose  quality  man  knows  no 
thing  from  other  sources  ?  These  must  be  pointed 
out,  or  the  claim  instituted  falls  to  the  ground.  Is  it 
the  mere  idea  of  self-existent  Being  ?  No  :  it  cannot 
be  this.  For  the  idea  of  Being,  and  intelligent  Being 
also,  is  taught  by  the  existence  of  every  man  ;  and 
the  abstract  view  of  self-existence  is  suggested,  so 
far  as  we  are  capable  of  its  comprehension,  by  a 
reasoning  process  with  which  even  children  are  not 
unfamiliar,  that  demands  the  cause  for  every  cause ; 
a  process  that  always  forces  the  weary  mind  to  rest 
on  an  Uncaused,  or  Self-existent  Deity. 

Is  it  the  idea  of  creation  that  he  knows  not  from 
elements  within  his  reach  ?  Certainly  not ;  for  man, 
in  a  limited  and  qualified  sense,  creates.  Surely  he 
must  have  this  idea  from  what  he  knows  of  origina 
tion,  or  he  could  not  receive  it  from  a  book,  or 
ascribe  it  to  his  Maker.  We  say  God  is  a  being 
unlimitedly  wise,  good,  mighty,  and  benevolent. 
We  say  he  is  pure,  is  infinite  and  eternal.  We  call 
him  just  and  merciful.  He  is  omnipresent.  These 
are  the  principal  ideas  that  enter  the  minds  of  the 
intelligent  and  the  devout,  as  they  bow  the  knee  of 
worship  in  his  earthly  temples,  and  lift  the  voice 
of  praise  amidst  the  terror-striking  storm,  or  in  tran 
quil  moods  meditate  on  his  mercies,  which  are  in 
countless  numbers  strewn  along  the  earth  and 
skies. 


152  NATURAL  THEOLOGY, 

We  rejoice  that  our  Father  in  heaven  has  placed 
in  our  nature,  and  in  the  creation  around  us,  all  the 
necessary  elements  for  knowing  him.  For  this  is 
the  only  condition  on  Avhich  a  divine  revelation  is 
possible.  Man  can  receive  no  idea  from  Heaven, 
except  he  has  something  in  his  own  previous  experi 
ence  through  which  he  may  receive  it.  Man  from 
his  own  soul  learns  what  wisdom  is.  He  knows 
more  than  he  can  express.  He  sees  also  the  silent 
works  of  a  mighty  wisdom  in  the  seasons,  in  the 
days,  in  the  ten  thousand  operations  of  the  world 
about  him ;  and,  lifting  his  eyes  to  the  troops  of  stars 
that  come  out  to  guard  the  sleeping  earth,  and 
expanding  through  the  greatness  he  beholds,  he  calls 
this  wisdom  infinite. 

Thus  also  does  he  know  goodness,  purity,  bene 
volence,  mercy,  justice,  and  power,  from  his  own 
experience.  Man  is  everywhere  surrounded  by  an 
infinite  sweep  of  power.  How  can  he  fail  to  get 
this  element  of  the  character  revelation  and  nature 
assign  to  God  ?  Where,  we  still  demand,  is  the  ele 
ment  in  the  best  religious  belief,  that  has  no  source 
in  the  human  soul  and  in  human  experience  ?  Thus 
far  we  cannot  find  it.  Is  it  the  idea  of  the  Infinite  ? 
Surely  this  is  a  vast  conception.  But  has  not  the 
soul,  under  all  skies  where  it  has  had  much  develop 
ment,  exhibited  evidence  of  having  this  vast  thought  ? 
Yes  :  there  is  a  sense  of  the  Infinite  in  the  soul  itself, 
its  own  powers  sharing  of  the  illimitable  and  the 
godlike.  The  boundlessness  of  time  and  space,  as 
well  as  the  vast  and  mighty  forms  of  sensuous  na 
ture,  also  suggests  this  thought  and  feeling.  Man 


NATURAL  THEOLOGY. 

knows  that  eternity  is  real ;  for  he  cannot  compass 
time,  or  believe  it  compassible.  He  feels  a  partial 
omnipresence  of  man's  spirit  and  influence.  He  is 
silent  before  the  ubiquity  of  a  power  working  in 
matter  and  space.  Where,  therefore,  is  the  strange 
element  in  man's  idea  of  Deity,  that  justifies  the  argu 
ment  of  our  intelligent  and  earnest  author,  which 
would  wholly  exclude  nature  as  a  source  of  religious 
knowledge,  in  order  to  draw  exclusively  from  the 
inspired  page  ?  We  say  he  thinks,  loves,  speaks,  acts, 
not  as  man  thinks,  loves,  speaks,  and  acts ;  but  these 
superior  conceptions  evidently  proceed  from  what 
we  know  of  man.  And  to  us  revelation  is  none  the 
less  sacred  because  the  soul  and  the  external  world 
contain  the  rudimental  and  preparatory  elements 
through  which  the  Highest  may  reveal  his  will ;  for 
the  visible  world,  and  these  primary  ideas  of  human 
ity,  grow  sacred  when  we  contemplate  them  as 
God's  highway  to  the  human  heart. 

We  have  now  done  with  Mr.  Kinkade ;  having 
met,  as  we  think,  the  whole  power  of  his  argument. 
We  have  used  his  name  and  reasoning  for  the  pur 
pose  of  bringing  forward  the  strength  of  the  extreme 
position  against  the  capacity  of  nature  to  reflect  upon 
the  race  the  rays  of  spiritual  light.  He  was,  indeed, 
a  close  student,  an  earnest  preacher,  a  strong  be 
liever  in  the  present  divine  influence  of  God  over 
man ;  and,  after  a  life  of  much  study  and  self- 
sacrifice,  of  original  thought  and  preaching ;  after 
the  weary  toils  of  many  missionary  labors  in  the 
West,  to  which  he  devoted  a  Herculean  vigor,  in  the 
autumn  of  1832  he  closed  his  eyes  in  death's  sweet 


154  NATURAL    THEOLOGY. 

and  long  repose.  Even  his  errors  are  interesting, 
from  taking  so  deep  a  root  into  religious  soil. 

Let  us  now  return  to  positive  ground.  Man  stands 
upon  the  earth,  its  crowned  chief,  looks  backward 
and  forward,  above  and  around,  where  immensity 
and  the  everlasting  impress  him.  From  the  wants 
of  his  nature,  and  from  the  darkness  that  envelopes 
his  origin  and  end,  without  a  decided  trust  and 
knowledge  of  God,  we  perceive  the  paramount  im 
portance  of  this  intelligence  to  every  human  being. 
No  knowledge  is  so  sublime,  none  so  necessary  to 
man's  highest,  deepest  wants.  And  can  we  think, 
that  all  light  that  emanates  from  God  is  confined  to 
the  limits  of  a  language  or  a  book  ?  Does  he  thus 
shut  himself  out  from  the  human  race  ?  This  cannot 
be.  He  has  a  living  and  a  universal  speech,  which 
the  nations  may  hear,  and  which,  to  some  extent,  the 
unlettered  sons  of  the  forest  and  the  barbarian  tribes 
of  the  earth  have  heard  with  reverence  and  awe. 

We  begin  with  simple  fact.  The  first  blow  a  child 
strikes  on  a  stone  causes  him  to  hear  a  sound.  He 
repeats  the  blow,  and  hears  again  the  sound.  That 
moment  he  has  learned  a  cause,  and  ever  after  will 
ask  for  one  when  a  phenomenon  is  presented.  Thus 
does  the  condition  of  life  at  first,  and  always  after, 
turn  men  into  reasoners,  and  sets  them  at  work  in 
finding  a  cause  for  every  unknown  phenomena. 
Then  the  interest  of  the  race  in  the  problem  of  crea 
tion  proceeds  from  a  simple  and  irrepressible  source 
within  themselves,  a  source  never  exhausted. 

Under  this  tendency,  men  seek  to  know  the 
Cause  of  the  universe  ;  and  the  latent,  deep  convic- 


NATURAL  THEOLOGY.  155 

tion  that  lives  at  the  bottom  of  this  effort  is,  that  it 
was  caused.  It  is  not  fitted  to  impress  men  as  be 
ing  eternal.  From  the  strength  of  the  tendency  just 
named,  it  is  utterly  impossible,  that  large  masses  of 
men  should  approach  the  natural  world  with  any 
other  conviction,  than  that  it  was  made  ;  and  we  pay 
to  this  fact  great  homage,  because  it  lies  beneath 
logic,  and  acts  with  the  unconsciousness  of  a  great 
and  undoubted  certainty. 

But  what  contents  the  mind  to  rest  in  God  ?  Why 
does  it  not  rush  on  further,  it  will  be  asked,  and 
demand  for  him  a  cause  ?  We  think  two  reasons 
may  be  assigned  for  this ;  which  are,  that  one  de 
mand  of  this  kind  leads  to  another  for  ever,  thus 
preventing  the  mind  from  becoming  settled  ;  whilst 
the  very  greatness  of  the  idea  of  God,  as  filling  the 
whole  soul,  overshadowing  man  and  the  universe  in 
his  power,  so  arrests  it  in  its  search  of  causation,  so 
fills  it  as  being  All  in  All,  that  it  cannot  pass  beyond. 
God  is  infinite.  What  can  man  conceive  beyond 
this  ?  An  attempt  to  go  beyond  the  idea  of  God  to 
find  a  greater  is  not  to  find  a  greater  God  than  all 
things  proclaim,  but  to  find  a  greater  idea  of  the 
only  Infinite  than  the  one  with  which  he  started. 
As  no  man  can  advance  beyond  the  infinite,  so  none 
can  conceive  of  a  being  or  a  greatness  beyond  the 
One  whom  all  things  reveal.  Therefore  reason  de 
mands  a  rest  of  the  mind  in  God.  There  are  defects, 
doubtless,  in  the  old  argument  for  the  Divine  exist 
ence  ;  for,  if  we  mistake  not,  it  was  mostly  drawn 
from  the  material  world,  and  little  stress  has  been 
comparatively  laid  on  the  higher  witness  of  his 


lOO  NATURAL   THEOLOGY. 

being,  as  found  speaking  from  the  soul  itself.  Paley 
is  lame  with  his  watch-symbol,  which,  supposing  a 
man  to  find,  convinces  him  that  it  had  a  maker  from 
its  completeness  of  design.  But  we  approach  watches 
with  the  previous  knowledge  that  men  make  them, 
whilst  we  do  not  approach  worlds  with  the  previous 
intelligence  that  God  makes  them.  Perhaps  it  is 
natural  that  the  chief  proofs  of  his  being  should  have 
been  sought  more  frequently  out  of  man ;  since  the 
great  majority  of  mankind  are  less  inclined  to  reason 
from  their  own  souls,  than  from  objects  of  perception 
through  the  external  senses. 

There  is,  we  think,  a  medium-ground  on  which 
this  topic  should  be  placed.  To  say  that  supernatural 
revelation,  independent  and  alone,  teaches  all  that  is 
known  of  God,  is  to  forget  that  no  revelation  can  be 
made  independent  of  nature.  Nature  must  lend  her 
images  and  symbols,  also  her  various  impressions  of 
primary  knowledge,  or  God  could  not  reveal  himself 
to  a  single  member  of  the  race.  The  most  touching 
inspirations  of  the  Bible  constantly  exhibit  this  in 
debtedness  to  the  natural  world,  and  to  the  native 
instincts  and  feelings  of  the  soul  they  address.  Then 
to  fly  to  the  other  extreme,  and  say  that  nature 
teaches  all  that  the  wants  of  mankind  require  should 
be  taught ;  to  say,  as  many  have  done,  that  nature  is 
a  sufficient  and  the  only  true  teacher  of  religious 
truth,  is  to  deny  all  divine  communication  from  the 
Father  of  spirits,  and  is  to  contradict  what  the  race 
have  almost  universally  believed.  And  to  us  the  race 
are  wiser  than  a  caste  or  a  school.  If  God  indeed 
is  a  supernatural  Being,  there  must  be  in  the  world's 


NATURAL  THEOLOGY. 

history  some  supernatural  development,  else  the  great 
est  reality  has  slumbered  for  ever. 

Perhaps  those  who  dwell  on  the  extremes  of  these 
positions  would  do  well  to  consider  well  the  diffi 
culties  which  each  involves.  We  would  pause, 
however,  to  point  out  but  one  inconsistency,  which 
attaches  to  those  who  allege  that  nature,  without 
revelation,  is  ignorant  of  God  ;  or  that,  without  it,  it 
might  teach  in  opposition  to  his  unity,  and  other 
attributes.  It  is  this.  They  usually  appeal  to  nature 
in  proof  of  the  Divine  existence  and  unity,  after 
they  have  derived  these  conclusions  from  revelation. 
Why  do  this  ?  If  nature  teaches  falsely  before  reve 
lation  comes,  what  evidence  have  we  that  it  can  teach 
truly  after  ?  A  false  witness  cannot  ordinarily  con 
firm  a  true  one.  If  nature  is  totally  ignorant  of  the 
Creator,  previous  to  the  light  of  revelation  being 
reflected  upon  her,  then  all  her  light  is  borrowed. 
Not  a  ray  is  original.  Such  a  witness  cannot  even 
confirm  an  inspired  testimony.  For  a  confirming 
witness  is  one  who  knows  something  himself,  not  he 
who  can  only  throw  back  what  the  other  told  him. 
It  is  from  knowledge  that  one  testimony  confirms 
another.  This  contradictory  and  suicidal  appeal  to 
nature,  as  a  witness,  might  be  carried  much  further ; 
but  we  only  ask,  why  make  nature  teach  contrary 
things  at  two  different  times  ?  Would  it  not  be  well 
to  distinguish  between  what  nature  teaches,  and  what 
many  may  foolishly  infer  ?  In  nature,  God  is  the  real 
speaker.  He  teaches.  And  were  his  mediums  of 
instruction  multiplied  to  millions  more  than  those  we 
know,  he  could  teach  nothing  but  truth  through 

14 


158  NATURAL    THEOLOGY. 

any  of  them.  To  say,  therefore,  that  nature  teaches 
falsely,  is  but  another  mode  of  saying  that  God 
lies. 

We  pity  the  bewildered  child  of  doubt,  who  is 
engaged  in  seeking  a  proof  that  God  exists.  The 
fact  itself  speaks  an  alienation  from  nature,  a  confu 
sion  of  heart  and  mind.  Nobler  spirits  do  not  ask 
proofs ;  but  they  see,  they  feel,  they  know  the  truth. 
Still  it  is  good  to  hear  God's  witnesses  ;  for  they 
speak  truth,  and  speak  it  plainly.  Therefore  let  us 
briefly  hear  the  four  witnesses  that  testify  of  his  truth 
and  presence :  — 

1.  And  first,  the  soul  itself  proclaims  His  Being ; 
for  it  contains  the  sacred  feeling,  the  element  of 
worship.*  How  can  the  religious  phenomena  of  the 
world  be  accounted  for  without  this  admission  ?  Do 
not  the  ethics  of  the  world  prove  a  moral  nature  in 
man  whence  they  came  ?  Do  not  the  sciences  prove 
an  intellectual  energy  as  natural  in  him  ?  Philoso 
phies  prove  man  to  be  naturally  a  reasoning  being. 
And  worship,  whose  altars  and  shrines  are  over  all 
the  earth,  proves  a  religious  nature,  without  which, 
creeds  and  altars  had  never  been. 

Here  blossoms  in  the  soul  itself  the  most  beautiful 
and  divine  proof  of  G  od.  Worship,  having  root  in 
the  human  heart,  always  looks  up  to  him.  Wor 
ship,  as  a  fact  of  nature,  implies  a  God,  as  the  eye 
implies  light,  as  hunger  implies  food,  as  thirst  implies 

*  In  saying  that  man  has  by  nature  a  religious  reverence,  a 
tendency  to  worship,  is  not  meant  that  he  is  always  religious  in 
character.  Reason  is  a  natural  power,  though  thousands  lire 
unreasonably. 


NATURAL  THEOLOGY.  159 

the  fountain.  Led  by  the  analogy  of  external  wants, 
with  their  appropriate  satisfying  objects,  we  could 
leave  no  great  want  of  the  soul  unsated.  Man  thirsts 
for  knowledge.  Behold  a  universe  of  truth,  of  real 
ity  !  Boundless  fields  of  science  are  spread  out 
before  him.  Truth  is  a  universal  presence,  shining 
forth  from  the  blue  heavens,  and  gleaming  from 
each  point  and  law  of  nature  to  meet  a  universal 
thirst.  Man  loves  society.  Behold  nature,  ever 
social,  ever  speaking  to  man  his  own  language,  ever 
wearing  the  hues  of  his  own  spirit !  Behold  himself 
in  neighbor,  country,  and  world !  Man  bows  in 
worship  ;  the  sacred  element  stirs  within  his  breast. 
Behold  the  Supreme  One,  —  the  Great  Unseen, 
whose  dim  shadow  and  likeness  all  this  universe  is  1 
Is  there  the  spirit  of  worship  in  humanity,  and  is 
there  no  God  ?  Then  the  correspondence  of  the 
universe  is  broken,  and  man's  deepest  want  has  no 
object  to  meet  and  satisfy  it.  Then  is  worship  an 
error  of  nature. 

2.  The  visible  material  world  bears  witness  of 
God.  Its  infallible  proofs  of  design  not  only  prove 
a  designer,  but  a  Divine  Mind  appears  to  shine  out 
as  daylight  from  all  this  visible  world,  from  all  this 
physiognomy  of  God.  Deeper  than  thought  is  the 
unconscious  feeling  of  mankind,  that  worlds  were 
made.  Behold  the  races  growing,  dying !  Behold 
the  seasons  changing  in  perfect  order!  Behold 
worlds  wheeling  through  the  still  immensity,  so  much 
according  to  law,  that  exact  calculations  may  be 
made  of  the  time  of  their  revolutions !  Behold  this 
silent,  vast,  and  perfect  government  of  matter  !  And 


160  NATURAL,    THEOLOGY. 

is  there  no  governor  ?  Have  these  laws  no  law 
giver  ?  "  The  fool  hath  said  in  his  heart,  There  is  no 
God."  Six  unities  prevail  through  the  solar  system, 
which,  though  we  cannot  here  stop  to  name  them, 
prove  that  no  chance-action  of  matter  could  ever 
have  thrown  those  worlds  into  the  relations  and  order 
which  they  so  beautifully  sustain.  A  world  without 
a  God,  and  a  God  without  a  world,  are  thoughts 
above  all  others  most  unnatural.  Nature  is  dead, 
contemplated  as  Godless.  But  when  you  hear  the 
hymn  of  the  stars,  the  praises  of  the  fountains  and 
the  sea ;  when  nature  pours  her  song  of  life  into 
your  ears,  as  the  chaunt  of  the  Parent- Will,  and 
when  God's  calm,  holy,  and  eloquent  voice  fills  all 
this  temple  of  nature  in  which  you  stand,  then  it  is 
that  nature  lives. 

3.  History  also  rises  up,  with  hoary  locks  and  fur 
rowed  countenance,  saying,  "  I  have  seen  God's  foot 
prints  in  the  earth."  Indeed  it  is  as  difficult  not  to 
see  God  in  history,  as  not  to  see  him  in  the  earth  and 
stars.  For  his  name  is  woven  into  the  life  of  the 
world.  Millions  of  altars  point  unto  him.  Then,  con 
sider  the  progress  of  the  ages,  in  which  sublimer 
ends  have  been  fulfilled  than  men  have  sought. 
Sacred  is  this  idea  of  God  over  man.  It  is  uttered 
in  the  songs,  fears,  hopes,  and  prayers  of  mankind. 
Man,  it  is  true,  in  the  drama  of  history,  is  the  visible 
actor ;  therefore  his  agency  is  more  clearly  discover 
able.  But  the  more  the  past  is  examined  in  its 
various  epochs  and  ruins,  the  more  clearly  is  it  seen, 
that  justice  has  wrought  out  the  great  problems  of 
destiny ;  that  evil  has  been  subordinated  to  good ; 


NATURAL    THEOLOGY.  161 

that  the  actions  of  man,  like  the  needle  to  the  north 
star,  have  vibrated  to  a  power'  above  himself;  and 
that  over  the  wild  harp  of  time  the  unseen  fingers  of 
the  High  and  the  Holy  have  swept,  causing  it  to  yield 
the  varied  harmony  of  ages.  God  speaks  out  of  the 
past ;  and,  from  the  connection  and  design  exhibited 
by  its  eras  of  change,  from  the  solemn  justice  that 
addresses  us  from  its  ruins,  and  from  its  sacred  hopes 
and  worship-offerings,  the  great  idea  of  his  presence 
dawns  upon  us,  like  the  mingling  light  of  a  thousand 
stars, 

4.  But  God  speaks  in  Christ,  in  whose  history  it 
seems  that  he  came  nearer  than  ever  before  to  our 
race.  The  division-gulf  between  the  finite  and  the 
infinite  is  passed  ;  and,  instead  of  the  overwhelming 
and  all-obscuring  view  of  a  Vast  Infinite,  the  contem 
plation  of  whom  is  not  to  strengthen  but  to  over 
power  humanity,  the  Infinite  is  clothed  in  the  hope- 
inspiring  character  of  Father  and  Friend.  To  doubt 
the  being  of  God,  since  Christ  became  a  part  of  the 
world's  history,  is  to  be  insane.  God  in  the  soul,  as 
heretofore  explained,  God  in  outward  nature,  and 
God  in  history,  are  viewed  within  the  range  of  natu 
ral  theology,  and  are  sources  from  which  all  people 
may  draw.  But  God  in  Christ  is  to  us  the  highest 
eminence  of  wisdom,  from  which  is  heard  a  voice 
whose  truth  is  echoed  back  by  the  mountains  and 
vales,  the  heights  and  depths  of  the  whole  creation. 
These  are  living  and  original  sources ;  and  whoever 
long  and  earnestly  drinks  from  them  will  have  ver 
dure  in  his  thoughts,  will  speak  and  act  from  a  real 
energy  of  soul. 


162  NATURAL    THEOLOGY. 

But  our  natural  theology  is  very  unnatural,  if  it 
causes  us  to  feel  the  great  distance  of  God.  It  is 
true,  we  feel  at  times  what  may  be  called  the  usurp 
ing  despotism  of  matter ;  but  the  natural  conviction 
is,  that  God  is  near,  acting  in  all  his  works,  moving 
the  universe  at  his  will.  What  are  the  laws  of  na 
ture  ?  They  are  but  his  modes  of  action.  He  is  as 
truly  present  in  the  weaving  of  the  leaf  of  June,  as  in 
the  morn  of  creation,  when  "  the  stars  sang  together, 
and  the  sons  of  God  shouted  for  joy."  Nature  speaks 
of  the  living,  present  Deity,  as  foreign  to  nothing, 
and  as  working  ever. 

Nature,  it  has  been  said,  is  an  inflexible,  un 
bending  teacher ;  which  may  be  very  true,  if  by 
nature  is  only  meant  the  material  world.  But,  if 
we  include  the  soul  in  this  term,  as  we  certainly 
should  do,  then  nature  is  no  longer  the  stern  and 
distant  representative  of  God,  but  is  warm,  direct, 
familiar,  whilst  it  also  wears  the  colors  of  simplicity 
and  power.  But  the  living  teacher,  sent  from  God 
with  words  of  poAver,  comes  far  more  near  than 
the  medium  of  material  nature  permits ;  although  the 
penetrating  as  well  as  the  soothing  influence  of 
the  earth's  scenes  is  very  great.  Often  nature  comes 
near  our  hearts,  when  men  are  unable  to  enter. 

Man  is  made  for  a  generous  confidence.  His  na 
ture,  we  believe,  demands  it.  Questionings  and 
doubt,  though  they  may  for  a  time  sharpen  the  intel 
lect,  and  be  useful  in  the  formation  of  a  noble  char 
acter,  as  a  means  of  separating  the  mind  from  lifeless 
error,  are  a  mildew  of  death  when  made  its  daily 
nourishment.  As  God  is  the  greatest  Being,  it  fol- 


NATURAL  THEOLOGY. 

lows  that  the  idea  of  him  is  the  most  sublime  of  all 
ideas.  None  is  so  creative.  But  our  best  idea  is 
necessarily  but  a  low  and  dim  conception.  We  shall 
and  should  outgrow  it,  as  light  continues  to  dawn  on 
our  minds.  The  universe  exists  to  brighten  and  to 
enlarge  it.  To  this  end  Christ  both  lived  and  died. 
He  came  to  manifest  God  in  wider  relations  than  he 
had  ever  been  known.  And  as  God  in  Christ  is  the 
great  exhibition  of  divine  knowledge,  we  should  seek 
to  study  the  Father  in  the  Son. 

But  we  shall  not  make  the  proper  progress,  we  fear, 
in  theological  science,  unless  we  find  a  basis  for  faith 
in  nature,  in  what  we  know.  We  would  start  from 
our  own  souls ;  for  it  is  through  the  knowledge,  con 
sciousness,  and  experience  belonging  to  these,  that  we 
are  to  apprehend  and  realize  all  the  revelations  of 
God's  mind  and  will.  And,  as  there  is  a  bond  of 
harmony  uniting  all  that  comes  from  the  Creator,  we 
should  fear  to  set  at  variance  his  word  and  works. 

The  tree  of  faith  is  stronger  and  more  storm- 
defying,  when  it  takes  deep  root  into  nature's  free 
and  ample  soil.  A  deep  and  silent  confidence  in  the 
truth  of  natural  reality  pervades  the  breast  of  all ; 
and  it  is  only  when  this  confidence  enters  into  the 
basis  of  religious  belief  that  it  is  natural,  vigorous, 
and  free.  A  great  theological  writer  of  the  present 
century  said,  "If  we  wished«to  impoverish  a  man's 
intellect,  we  could  devise  few  means  more  effectual, 
than  to  confine  him  to  what  is  called  a  course  of 
theological  reading.  The  very  subject  to  which  above 
all  others  the  writer  should  bring  his  whole  strength 
of  thought  and  feeling,  which  allies  itself  to  our  no- 


164  NATURAL  THEOLOGY* 

blest  faculties,  to  which  reason,  imagination,  taste, 
and  genius  should  consecrate  their  noblest  efforts, 
is  of  all  subjects  treated  most  weakly,  tamely,  and 
with  least  attraction."  But  let  us  account  for  this 
fact.  Why  does  such  study  often  narrow  and  im 
poverish  the  intellect,  whilst  the  investigations  of 
nature  tend  to  enrich  and  expand  it  ?  Several 
reasons  perhaps  may  be  assigned  ;  but  the  chief  one 
that  strikes  us  with  force  is  this,  —  that  theology,  and 
the  studies  appertaining  to  it,  are  too  widely  separ 
ated  from  the  genius  and  spirit  of  the  Creator's  works, 
are  too  much  isolated  from  the  best  wisdom  of  the 
actual  life,  and  do  not  sufficiently  seek  to  go  hand  in 
hand  with  the  wider  teachings  of  the  human  heart, 
and  of  the  life-awakening  nature  around  us.  In 
short,  the  religious  teacher  must  drink  from  the  origi 
nal  fountains  we  have  named,  and  must  learn  and 
live  the  harmony  that  unites  them.  Christ  must  be 
his  great  teacher.  Theology  must  be  naturalized, 
must  receive  the  light  of  all  known  truth,  and  be 
enriched  by  the  new-gained  treasures  of  knowledge 
to  be  drawn  from  the  inexhaustible  Christ,  and  from 
the  inexhaustible  sources  of  the  creation.  Both  are 
teachers  sent  from  God.  And  it  strikes  us  as  deeply 
true,  that  this  union  of  strength  would  close  the  door 
of  doubt  among  large  portions  of  the  thoughtful; 
would  open  new  and  npble  passages  to  the  human 
soul ;  would  enlarge,  elevate,  and  purify  the  intellect 
and  the  heart;  would  give  to  sacred  literature  the 
freshness  of  a  true  and  real  life ;_  would  tend  to  kindle 
a  genuine  earnestness  in  the  pulpit;  and  would,  we 
trust,  if  carried  out,  take  from  the  religious  teacher 


NATURAL  THEOLOGY.  165 

his  sepulchral  tones,  and  make  the  eloquence  of  the 
pulpit  as  natural  as  the  song  of  the  bird,  and  as 
power-inspiring  as  the  voice  of  the  sea. 

Certainly  we  would  welcome  all  light,  and  from 
every  source.  We  would  know  God  truly  in  his 
glory  and  loveliness.  For  worship  is  everlasting; 
and  the  eternal  law  pervading  it  always  stamps  on 
the  character  of  the  worshipper  the  moral  likeness 
of  the  attributes  and  qualities  he  adores. 

The  Bible  attempts  no  proof  of  the  being  of  God. 
It  merely  asserts  the  fact,  presuming  that  all  assent 
to  it ;  that  the  truth  of  it  is  so  clear  that  no  one  can 
doubt.  How  much  nobler  is  the  strain,  "  In  the  be 
ginning  God  made  the  heavens  and  the  earth,"  than 
if,  presuming  either  ignorance  or  doubt,  the  writer 
had  opened  the  genesis  of  creation  by  urging  a 
proof!  The  thoroughly  convinced  and  assured  are 
not  apt  to  think  of  doubts  in  others.  He  who  says, 
Show  me  a  proof  that  truth  and  virtue  are  real,  is  in 
the  lowest  state  of  mental  and  moral  illness.  And 
he  who  hears  not  God's  voices  within  and  without, 
and  who,  on  an  earth  whose  exact  revolutions  and 
manifold  blessings  tell  us  of  him,  and  under  skies 
that  look  down  with  many  thousand  eyes  on  the 
inhabitants  of  earth,  still  watches  for  evidence  that 
God  exists,  is  the  subject  of  a  morbid  and  self- 
made  bewilderment.  Nobler  natures  do  not  call  for 
proof.  They  see  and  feel  the  Everlasting  Divinity. 
Many  things,  no  doubt,  ask  for  pity  ;  but  who  can 
deserve  it  more  than  the  poor  and  weary  proof- 
hunter,  who  cannot  see  his  God  ?  Blind  rBartimeus 
could  not  see  the  sun. 


ESSAYS 


GENIUS. 


WHAT  Genius  and  its  characteristics  are,  what  its 
proper  aims  and  calling,  what  its  liabilities  and 
responsibilities,  are  questions  of  undoubted  interest, 
even  to  those  who  are  compelled  to  conduct  the  in 
vestigation  without  a  single  spark  of  its  kindling 
energy.  We  grant  that  genius  best  comprehends 
genius;  for  the  law  that  lies  at  the  bottom  of  all 
appreciation  is  that  of  kindred  faculties.  But,  from 
the  unconsciousness  that  marks  this  mysterious 
power,  it  is  little  prone  to  self-inspection ;  and,  report 
ing  itself  only  in  its  works,  we,  who  are  among  the 
taught  and  the  entertained,  are  at  Liberty  to  analyze 
its  properties,  and  to  speak  of  them  to  others. 

But  there  is  a  common  ground  on  which  the  man 
of  genius  and  all  others  meet.  He  addresses  the 
consciousness  existent  in  all,  in  the  full  hope  of  being 
understood.  The  many  admire.  They  are  consci 
ous  of  the  truth  that  genius  utters.  Only  they  could 
not  say  it.  The  fact  that,  under  the  most  inspired 
teaching,  all  are  conscious  of  the  same  inward  ele 
ments  ;  the  fact  that  the  most  gifted  ones  are  felt  to 
be  natural,  and  the  fact  that  their  glorification  finally 
comes  from  the  popular  mind,  prove  that  there  is 

15 


170  GENIUS. 

some  sense  in  which  the  genius  and  his  less  gifted 
brothers  stand  upon  a  common  level.  The  law  of 
nature,  just  alluded  to,  that  the  mere  fact  of  admira 
tion  implies  that  the  admirer  has  in  his  nature  that 
which  is  kindred  to  the  qualities  admired,  applies  to 
this  case  in  all  its  force  ;  for  it  is  evidently  on  this  that 
the  possibility  of  admiration  depends.  But  that  all 
men  have  genius  in  that  differential  sense  which  en 
ables  the  ^Eschylus  and  the  Shakspeare  to  produce, 
does  not  necessarily  follow,  since  the  power  to  do  and 
the  power  to  appreciate  are  not  the  same.  He  who 
could  not  perform  a  miracle  might  detect  the  divine 
presence  in  one  wrought  before  his  eyes.  In  defiance 
of  the  apparent  conflict,  I  hold  the  two  ideas  in  har- 
mony,  that  men  of  genius  are  few,  and  that  the 
admiration  of  the  many  is  possible  only  on  the 
ground  of  kindred  powers. 

This  topic  belongs  to  that  invisible  nature  we  de 
nominate  Mind,  on  which  volumes  have  been  written, 
and  theories,  more  numerous  than  the  planets,  have 
been  multiplied.  But,  within  the  province  of  philoso 
phy  proper,  the  ability  to  unfold  the  nature  of  matter 
or  mind  has  not  yet  appeared,  although  the  discovery 
of  important  properties  belonging  to  each  has,  for 
ages,  been  a  part  of  the  knowledge  of  mankind.  It 
is  conceded  that  matter  and  mind  are  the  consistence 
of  the  universe ;  and  that  these,  though  substantially 
different,  are  analogically  similar,  so  that  the  reasoner 
on  mental  properties  may  find  assistance  in  the  elo 
quent  illustrations  yielded  by  the  laws  and  facts  of 
nature  physical. 

Humanity  is  a  unit  spread  out  into  an  infinite  va- 


GENIUS.  171 

riety  of  gifts  and  powers.  Perfect  equality  nowhere 
exists.  Worlds  are  not  the  same  in  size  and  density, 
nor  men  in  talents  and  fortunes.  In  the  natural 
world,  the  greater  bodies  always  govern  the  less,  as 
the  revolutions  of  our  own  solar  system  most  clearly 
and  happily  teach  ;  and,  through  a  law  equally  uni 
versal,  the  mind,  great  by  nature  and  discipline, 
becomes  the  mover  of  masses.  Make  all  worlds  of 
the  same  size  and  density,  and  the  motions  of  the 
universe  instantly  cease.  And  there  is  no  doubt  that 
the  useful  activities  of  the  human  race  are  promoted 
by  its  great  diversity  of  faculties,  from  genius  in  its 
highest  forms  to  the  most  limited  extent  of  natural 
capacity  known  to  the  common  mind.  But  as  mind 
is  of  supreme  value ;  as  the  universe  material,  in  all 
its  order  and  magnificence  of  law,  is  but  secondary 
and  auxiliary  to  it ;  the  great  man  is  more  deeply 
interesting  and  more  highly  sublime,  than  the  visible 
structure  of  any  world  that  moves  at  the  bidding  of 
Omnipotent  Power. 

What  is  Genius  ?  Is  it  a  single  faculty  of  the 
human  mind,  separate  from  all  the  rest  ?  Is  it  inde 
pendent  of  the  other  powers  ?  Or  is  it  not  a  har 
mony  of  all  the  faculties,  a  happy  combination  of 
the  powers  common  to  all  men  ?  —  These  in  their 
place. 

But  where  is  the  old  family  of  genii  that  figured 
so  largely  in  the  classical  antiquity  ?  In  the  burial 
of  mythology,  this  beautiful  conception  of  the  Greek 
and  Roman,  that  gave  to  each  man  and  woman 
of  the  world  a  supernal  spirit,  a  guiding  angel, 
through  all  the  vicissitudes  of  life,  is  for  ever  gone. 


172  GENIUS. 

The  august  fraternity  of  genii  is  no  more.  But  there 
are  some  truths  in  the  old  crude  faith  we  dislike  to 
dismiss.  In  the  coarseness  of  their  conceptions,  they 
placed  the  genius  out  of  the  man,  still  influencing 
him.  Now,  the  genius  is  in  the  man.  Yet  it  often 
keeps  back  of  his  phenomenal  character.  Then 
every  man,  woman,  and  child,  had  a  genius.  Now 
but  few  claim  the  power  indicated  by  this  name. 
Yet  is  it  not  true  that  each  has,  in  some  sense, 
genius  ?  Otherwise,  through  what  inward  power 
does  the  youth  everywhere  apprehend  its  presence 
when  displayed  ?  Genius  was  then  divine  :  so  is 
it  now.  It  was  then  an  inspiring  divinity  ;  no  less 
so  at  this  day.  Its  agency  was  then  for  the  Aveal  or 
woe  of  its  subject.  Let  us  keep  these  hints  of  the 
old  myth ;  yes,  even  this,  that  places,  as  well  as  per 
sons,  have  their  genius;  for  they  speak  oracles  to 
the  meditative,  they  utter  language  as  various  as 
Homer  and  Anacreon.  John  Mason  Good  tells 
us,  that  the  ancient  word  representing  genius  first 
appeared  in  the  Hebrew,  was  then  copied  into  the 
Sanscrit,  Arabic,  and  Chinese ;  and  from  the  east 
ern  languages  it  was  conveyed  into  the  Latin,  and 
from  this  into  our  own,  and  into  nearly  every  lan 
guage  of  modern  Europe;  implying,  in  every  in 
stance,  a  tutelary,  a  guiding,  or  inspiring  divinity. 
But  we  are  at  issue  with  the  ancient  in  this.  "  There 's 
a  divinity  "  within  us  "  that  shapes  our  ends,"  —  not 
a  demon  out  of  us,  not  a  foreign  guardian  and  guide 
to  fortune. 

Tracing  the  lineage  of  this  term  through  the  Gre 
cian  lore  might  yield  an  idea  for  the  thoughtful,  and 


GENIUS.  173 

perhaps  some  amusement  to  the  curious.  But  I 
would  linger  here  only  to  say,  that  it  is  thought  by 
some  to  descend  to  us  more  immediately  from  the 
Greek  verb  gignomai,  or  ginnomai,  which  claims 
ancestry  in  geno,  a  word  of  great  repute  in  Grecian 
lore.  Gig-no  is  a  supposed  ancestor  to  this  cele 
brated  noun ;  and,  if  this  gives  the  proper  lineage  of 
the  word,  it  also  gives  the  idea,  to  beget,  to  produce, 
to  create.  That  genius  is  the  creative,  originating 
force  of  mind  is  therefore  somewhat  favored  by  this 
etymology  of  the  term. 

But  leaving  the  word,  let  us  follow  the  inquiry, 
What  is  Genius  ? 

No  one  can  imagine  that  genius  is  a  faculty  sep 
arate  from  the  order  of  intellectual  powers  common 
to  every  man,  without  opposing  the  truth,  that  the 
elements  of  the  human  mind  are  fundamently  the 
same ;  that  the  difference  lies  not  in  the  class  of 
faculties,  but  in  their  quantity,  quality,  and  peculiar 
combination.  The  human  body  has  the  same  num 
ber  of  organs,  in  the  different  orders  of  strength  and 
agility.  The  noblest  feats  do  not  imply  that  a  new 
nerve,  muscle,  or  limb,  is  possessed  by  the  actor, 
unpossessed  by  those  of  lesser  skill.  Neither  can 
the  highest  and  noblest  achievements  of  the  superior 
mind  argue  the  possession  of  a  single  mental  faculty 
unshared  by  others.  The  mind  is  one.  All  differ 
ences  must  be  resolved  into  quantity,  quality,  and 
combination  of  powers,  which,  in  unequal  degrees, 
are  shared  by  the  race.  I  here  speak  of  the  matter 
simply  with  reference  to  the  nature  of  man,  grant 
ing,  of  course,  all  that  will  probably  be  claimed  for 
15* 


174  GENIUS. 

the  inequalities  of  educational  circumstances.  The 
primitive  constitution  of  one  man  contains  what  is 
possessed  by  all  men.  He  is  a  monster  born  who 
comes  into  the  world  with  more  than  the  usual  num 
ber  of  limbs  and  organs.  Nor  could  the  man  of 
genius  be  contemplated  as  natural,  provided  his 
mind  contained  a  faculty  unowned  by  the  mass. 
Indeed,  were  one  to  be  born  having  a  highly  sub 
lime  faculty  of  mind,  the  like  of  which  others  do  not 
possess,  he  must  for  ever  remain  unknown ;  for  to 
know  him,  in  the  order  of  greatness  to  which  the 
new  power  refers,  implies  a  like  faculty  in  others. 
He  must  find  a  race  like  himself,  or  be  unknown. 

The  man  of  genius  differs  from  others,  perhaps, 
in  the  amount,  not  in  the  number,  of  his  powers. 
Still  more  does  he  differ  in  the  quality  of  his  pow 
ers.  Genius  always  implies  a  finer  quality  of  spirit. 
Quality  in  the  soils  varies  not  so  much  as  quality  in 
the  empire  of  mind.  Nor  do  the  trees  in  their  beau 
tiful  growth  combine  the  same  elements  more  va 
riously,  than  the  individualizing  spirit  of  humanity 
combines  the  same  class  of  mental  powers.  In  the 
true  man  of  genius,  —  and  in  this  statement  I  mean 
not  all  who  attain  this  fame,  but  simply  our  highest 
idea  of  such  a  one,  —  in  him,  I  say,  the  highest 
quality  of  powers  is  so  harmonized,  that  their  natural 
operation  is  marked  by  the  perfect.  There  is  such 
an  innate  susceptibility  of  truth,  such  an  inward 
harmony  of  soul,  that,  when  the  mind  acts,  there 
seems  to  be  an  unconscious  choice  of  the  highest 
excellence. 

Properly  speaking,  men  of  genius  are  intuitive. 


GENIUS.  175 

What  logic  labors  for,  they  behold.  Genius  is  quick 
to  see  the  law  involved  in  facts.  Its  processes  are 
rapid,  and  are  not  to  be  fully  reported.  It  pene 
trates  the  cloud  of  appearance,  tears  away  the  veil 
of  falsity  from  the  divine  face  of  truth,  discovers  by 
a  glance  the  deep  reality  of  things,  sports  with  the 
old  boundaries  of  thought,  and  brings  harmony  from 
all  it  touches,  by  that  easy,  rapid,  and  spontaneous 
action  of  mind  that  most  resembles  divine  agency. 
Genius  has  a  fine,  spiritual  sensation.  It  feels  the 
true,  the  right.  It  has  a  temperament  its  own. 
There  is  a  happy  union  of  imagination  and  judg 
ment  in  all  its  achievements.  It  is  the  sudden  wis 
dom,  the  spontaneous  reason,  the  natural  inspiration 
of  man.  Nature  smiles  when  she  sees  wealth  and 
opportunity  attempting  to  create  it ;  and,  after  a 
brief  pause,  tells  all  concerned,  that  genius  is  born, 
not  made.  But  I  would  more  definitely  inquire  into 
its  characteristics  and  attributes. 

1.  And  I  would  first  of  all  remind  you,  that  genius 
is  unconscious  of  self.  This  is  its  beautiful  charac 
teristic.  And  do  you  think  that  this  view  is  not 
older  than  Thomas  Carlyle  or  the  Edinburgh  Re 
view  ?  Ages  since,  Sophocles  was  deeply  impressed 
with  it,  when  he  said,  "  .^Eschylus  does  what  is  right 
without  knowing  it."  And  .^Eschylus,  more  than  he, 
was  creative.  The  great  man  wears  the  livery  of 
simplicity.  He  never  marvels  at  himself,  but  rather 
at  the  universal  nature  manifested  in  himself  and  in 
all  men.  Shakspeare  always  lost  sight  of  himself  as 
an  individual.  Burns  was  driven  by  poverty,  and 
not  by  self-applause,  to  publish  his  poems.  Neither 


176  GENIUS. 

was  ^  aware  of  having  done  any  thing  wonderful. 
Both  had  been  surprised,  could  they  have  foreseen 
the  admiration  of  after-times.  Jesus  never  wondered 
at  his  own  miracles.  Genius  never  said,  "  Have  I 
not  well  spoken  ?  "  For  the  naturalness  of  all  its 
performances  not  only  excludes  the  feeling  whence 
these  vanities  spring,  but,  from  the  perfection  of  the 
standards  which  genius  owns,  we  may  infer  dissat 
isfaction,  rather  than  complaisance. 

When  we  return  to  our  own  experience,  it  is  not 
difficult  to  learn,  that  our  most  perfect  actions  and 
utterances  have  always  been  in  those  golden  mo 
ments  when  we  have  lost  sight  of  ourselves  as  indi 
viduals,  when  we  have  surrendered  ourselves  wholly 
to  the  inspiration  of  the  thought  to  be  expressed,  or 
the  end  to  be  attained.  He  whose  mind  is  partly 
on  himself,  and  partly  on  his  theme,  acts  with  divided 
energies.  He  who  forgets  himself  in  his  theme 
alone  wields  his  entire  power.  In  the  social  circle, 
it  is  not  till  we  have  fallen  into  this  unconsciousness, 
that  we  are  happy  and  at  ease  ;  and  the  perfect 
grace  of  manner  never  comes  till  then.  The  most 
perfect  lines  of  the  poet  are  those  which  cost  him  the 
least  labor.  I  admire  this  law  of  genius.  It  is  beau 
tiful.  Nor  is  it  less  the  minister  of  utility,  provided 
a  boasting  age,  and  many  persons  who  are  too  con 
scious  of  being  unappreciated,  would  use  it  as  the 
mirror  of  self-inspection. 

Kindred  to  this  is  the  naturalness  which  appertains 
to  this  school.  In  spite  of  our  previous  knowledge 
of  fiction,  King  Lear  ever  afterwards  is  a  real  king, 
and  Desdemona  a  real  woman.  Falstaff  is  as  really 


GENIUS.  177 

an  English  humorist  as  Dean  Swift.  "We  see  the 
heaths  of  Scotia  waving  with  blossoms  red,  we 
stand  amid  the  "  banks  and  braes  o'  bonnie  Boon," 
and  join  the  cotter  in  his  worship,  while  reading  the 
page  of  Burns ;  nor  can  we  dismiss  Coleridge  with 
out  bearing  ever  after  the  sacred  image  in  our 
bosoms  as  of  one  we  know,  the  image  of  Gene- 
vieve,  who  could  not  become  more  real  in  our 
minds,  had  she  lived  and  died  in  a  hundred  coun 
tries.  Genius  will  be  natural.  Its  most  perfect  words 
often  cause  the  poor,  unlettered  drudge  to  feel  for 
the  moment  that  "  he  could  have  told  that"  Each 
life  being  unfolded  under  the  impressions  of  the 
same  outward  nature,  varying  only  in  its  scenes,  and 
each  having  an  experience  of  similar  facts,  varying 
mostly  in  manner  and  extent,  and  each  conscious  of 
"the  Avorkings  of  the  same  inward  powers,  it  is  not 
difficult  to  determine  what  is  true  to  nature.  Genius 
interests  because  it  represents  us.  It  revives  in 
beauty  what  lay  in  repose.  It  speaks  to  our  primitive 
being,  which  underlies  all  custom  and  art,  and  out 
lives  all  changes,  the  same  for  ever.  Hence,  the  man 
of  genius  lives  for  ever.  He  speaks  to  the  Everlast 
ing,  and  it  hears  him. 

2.  But  genius  begets,  produces,  creates.  He  is 
the  fountain,  and  not  the  cistern.  He  does  not 
hold,  but  flows ;  and,  when  true  to  his  vocation,  his 
influences  are  as  the  Nile,  calling  out  verdure  Avher- 
ever  they  go. 

There  needs  be' in  this  world  those  who  create. 
All  beaten  paths  were  once  a  wild.  Man  was  before 
government,  art,  philosophy,  and  song.  He  is  older 


178  GENIUS. 

than  the  Church  or  the  State.  The  demand  for 
genius  was  laid  in  the  most  primitive  state.  And 
since  progress  is  the  law  of  society  as  well  as  of  in 
dividuals,  there  must  be  creators  of  new  paths, 
leaders  and  inspirers  of  men  ;  for  everywhere  the 
majority,  by  the  instincts  of  their  own  minds,  are 
more  inclined  to  follow  and  adopt,  than  they  are  to 
strike  out  new  modes  of  thought  and  action.  The 
demand  for  creative  power  is  everlasting. 

Greatness  belongs  to  both  origination  and  admin 
istration,  but  in  a  far  higher  sense  to  the  former. 
We  often  find  strong  minds,  in  the  various  callings  of 
public  life,  who  most  ably  discharge  their  duties, 
who  execute  in  an  admirable  manner,  and  who  are 
in  the  highest  sense  useful.  But  they  add  no  new 
idea  to  enrich  the  science  to  which  their  lives  have 
been  devoted.  They  leave  things  as  they  found 
them.  The  man  of  talent  merely,  is  strong  for  enter 
prise,  strong  to  administer,  and  strong  to  execute. 
But  talent  alone  never  creates  a  new  state  on  nobler 
foundations  of  law,  never  leads  Israel  out  of  Egypt 
to  their  promised  land,  never  originates  a  Protestant 
Reformation,  and  never  electrifies  a  country  with  a 
new  truth.  Genius  creates  the  world,  and  talent  is 
the  giant  Atlas  who  carries  it.  But  creation  is  the 
highest  work.  It  is  most  like  the  All-Perfect  Mind. 

The  man  of  genius  is  rich  in  new  modes  of 
thought,  if  his  sphere  is  laid  in  this  direction.  Give 
to  philosophic  genius  a  fact,  and  it  soon  discovers 
the  law  that  pervades  it ;  and,  through  what  it  sees  in 
the  few  simple  facts,  it  may  rise  to  higher  truths. 
To  the  man  of  this  order  of  genius,  the  facts  of  nature 


GENIUS.  179 

and  life  are  always  pointing  to  what  is  above  them 
selves.  A  few  means,  in  his  hands,  are  turned  to 
a  great  account.  He  makes  a  way.  Napoleon 
boasted  of  having  made  his  generals  "  out  of  mud  ;  " 
and  in  the  immense  fruitfulness  of  his  mind,  both 
for  the  origination  and  execution  of  plans,  there  is 
displayed  the  creativeness  of  genius  in  its  boldest 
forms. 

In  calling  the  man  of  genius  creator,  I  would  guard 
my  view  from  a  possible  abuse.    It  might  be  inferred 
that  I  use  the  term  in  its  absolute  sense,  implying 
that  out  of  nothing,  or  almost  nothing,  genius  con 
structs  her  magnificent  temples.     Indeed,  there  is 
something  of  this  view  implied  in  common  discourse, 
when  people  say  that  an  author  has  made  a  scene  of 
life  or  nature  beautiful  by  shedding  upon  it  all  the 
light  of  his   genius.      But   creation   supposes   pre 
existing  materials ;   and  they  who  acknowledge  the 
fact  that  nature  and  life  are  always  more  beautiful 
than  we  see  or  know,  will  withhold  from  genius  the 
credit   of  making  beauty,  in   any  sense,   but   will 
accede  to  its  agency  the  discovery  and  presentation 
of  beauties  which  the  common  eye  has  failed  to  per 
ceive.     Reason  creates  no  law  of  logic  ;  conscience, 
no  law  of  ethics ;   and  genius,  no  law  of  beauty. 
Law  flows  from  God,  and  on  the  tables  of  nature 
and  fact  it  is  inscribed.     The  mental  powers  can  but 
discover  and  report.   It  is  creation  to  combine  anew, 
to  dissolve  old  compounds,  and  form  new  struc 
tures,  in  which  sense  the  man  of  genius  is  doubtless 
creator. 

At  the  head   of  every  epoch,  there  is  a  great 


180  GENIUS. 

man,  —  a  man  of  genius  :  surely  one,  perhaps  more. 
Moses  was  a  man  of  great  genius  for  his  day.  He 
had  large  powers  of  origination,  and  was  by  nature, 
as  well  as  discipline,  qualified  to  preside  over  the 
exodus,  journeys,  and  social  state  of  a  people,  from 
whose  development,  in  their  settled  state,  such  great 
consequences  were  to  flow.  His  genius  presided 
over  the  great  plans.  He  knew  the  distant  land  of 
promise,  and  he  could  inspire  the  stupid  masses  with 
new  courage  and  hope.  But  Joshuas  were  needed 
also  :  talent  had  its  place. 

The  eleven  centuries  in  which  Grecian  thought 
took  philosophic  form  flowed  along  under  the  pre 
siding  genius  of  Socrates.  He  begat  the  philosophers, 
not  by  teaching  a  system,  but  by  so  waking  up  the 
spirit  of  reflection,  that  it  could  not  die  for  ages. 
So,  indeed,  of  every  epoch  in  art.  The  masters 
appear  as  causes.  So  of  all  the  epochs  in  religion 
and  letters.  Luther  was  a  genius,  more  destructive 
than  constructive,  to  be  sure  ;  but  the  evils  with 
which  he  fought  were  positive,  and  the  energy  and 
means  he  wielded  were  also  positive.  When  destruc 
tion  had  cleared  away  the  rubbish,  and  the  times 
demanded  a  more  constructive  great  man,*  he  came. 
Byron  stood  at  the  head  of  a  grand  revolution  in 
poetry,  —  a  revolution  that  swept  away  the  school  of 
mere  mechanical  niceness,  and  idolatry  of  the  rules, 
and,  more  than  any  one  else,  established  the  school 
of  earnest,  life-breathing  style  in  this  department  of 
English  literature.  If  Cowper  was  the  harbinger, 

*  John  Calvin. 


GENIUS.  181 

Byron  was  nearly  the  finisher,  of  this  change  ;  still 
retaining  the  lofty  structure  of  verse  he  had  so  much 
admired  in  Pope.  History  also,  in  England,  had  no 
philosophical  merit,  till  its  grounds  were  trodden  by 
David  Hume.  But  it  is  needless  to  follow  further  this 
idea  of  history.  Men  of  genius  are  the  universal  men  ; 
the  men  Avhose  influences  are  felt  by  the  millions,  the 
men  who  most  strongly  mark  the  epochs  of  human 
progress.  The  world,  in  its  institutions,  laws,  thought, 
and  song,  points  to  them  as  to  the  gods  of  the  earth, 
so  far  as  creative  achievement  is  concerned. 

3.  Genius  is  also  bold  and  free.  The  eagle  is 
probably  its  fittest  emblem.  It  darts,  it  soars,  it 
sports  with  the  storm  ;  it  comes  down  for  its  prey, 
and  again  ascends.  The  free  winds  —  now  soft  and 
balmy  as  the  breath  and  whisper  of  angels,  and  now 
driving  the  dark  clouds  like  great  autumn  leaves  —  is 
a  good  symbol  of  romantic  genius.  Talent  is  often 
enslaved.  It  is  often  bought.  And,  for  the  most 
part,  the  man  of  talent  merely  is  more  apt  to  value 
truth  from  its  relation  to  some  local  enterprise  and 
end ;  while  genius,  though  often  perverted  to  min 
ister  to  the  passions,  is  far  more  capable  of  loving 
truth  for  its  own  sake,  —  of  making  science  its  god 
dess. 

Power  is  instinctively  free  and  independent ;  and, 
from  the  very  nature  of  genius  as  intuitive,  vigorous, 
and  rapid  in  its  action,  it  is  incapable  of  the  narrow 
enslavement  to  which  men  of  other  powers  are  often 
exposed.  Many  consent  to  masters  whose  worth 
they  do  not  know.  They  blindly  find  them  in  opin 
ion,  custom,  and  habit.  No  man  serves  what  hf 
16 


182  GENIUS. 

deems  unworthy  ;  but  the  man  of  genius  weighs  and 
penetrates  all  pretended  masters,  and  explodes  their 
titles  to  reign  before  he  submits  to  the  yoke.  The 
liberal  tendencies  of  genius  are  prominent  in  its  his 
tory.  Nothing  is  more  difficult  to  confine  within 
sectarian  walls.  Hence  also  the  scepticism  of  this 
class  has  been  not  a  little  complained  of,  as  refer 
ence  to  the  names  of  Hume,  Rousseau,  Byron,  Burns, 
Shelley,  and  others,  at  once  evince  ;  and  perhaps  one 
cause  of  the  phenomenon  lies  in  their  natural  dislike 
to  constraint,  and  still  more  in  their  superior  capacity 
to  penetrate  the  poverty  of  popular  belief.  I  have 
said  elsewhere  that  genius  is  quick  to  discover  the 
law  of  things ;  and  law  is  universal.  The  range  of 
real  principles  is  infinite.  The  man  of  genius,  more 
than  others,  is  apt  to  realize  the  unity  of  the  universe, 
and  the  spiritual  expansion  to  which  this  conception 
ministers.  Now,  it  is  plainly  evident  that  the  sec 
tarian  constraints  of  society  are  opposed  to  the  uni 
versality  of  which  I  speak.  They  are  too  small  to 
measure  its  range.  Hence  they  often  and  justly 
become  its  sport. 

I  think  the  position  safe,  that,  in  the  liberal  ten 
dencies  of  genius,  there  is  a  recognition  of  the  uni 
versal  worth  and  equal  elements  of  human  nature. 
One  feels  certain,  that,  had  Shakspeare  devoted  his 
life  to  politics,  his  tendencies  had  been  to  popular 
freedom  ;  for  the  human  heart,  and  not  the  divine 
right  of  kings,  had  been  his  argument.  Burns 
alarmed  his  government  by  his  free  expression  of 
sympathy  for  the  popular  freedom,  the  love  and 
purpose  of  which  were  bursting  forth  in  France. 


GENIUS.  183 

Youth,  il  is  said,  is  enthusiastic  for  liberty  ;  and,  from 
the  warm  temperament  that  is  usually  the  ^accom 
paniment  of  genius,  this  enthusiasm  remains  longer 
in  its  veins.  The  autumnal  green  not  unfrequently 
adorns  its  fading  years.  Byron  was  zealous  in 
Greece.  Shelley,  under  all  his  persecutions,  held  a 
glowing  hope  for  the  human  race.  Genius  is  more 
apt  to  penetrate  the  surface,  to  look  through  the 
circumstance  and  accidents  of  man  to  his  nature, 
is  more  given  to  contemplate  him  from  his  manhood  ; 
and  therefore  its  general  sentiment  is  more  likely  to 
be,  "  A  man's  a  man  for  a'  that." 

The  man  of  genius,  especially  in  the  department 
of  sentiment  and  action,  throws  himself  upon  his 
primitive  nature.  His  spirit  appears  not  tamed  and 
domesticated.  His  atmosphere  smells  of  mountains 
and  forests,  of  the  unmanaged  elements,  and  unaf 
fected  loveliness.  Nature's  wildness  is  ever  inspiring. 
The  desert  bears  its  matchless  flower.  The  noblest 
animals  are  unenslaved.  "  The  lion  is  alone."  And 
in  the  untrodden  wilds,  where  God  alone  is  gardener 
of  the  rich  parterre,  genius  feeds  and  grows,  no 
less  than  under  the  smile  of  various  art.  Imagina 
tion,  "  the  angel  of  the  human  mind,"  is  boldest 
and  freest  of  all  the  faculties,  —  is  most  inventive 
and  least  restrained  ;  and,  in  fineness  of  quality  and 
fulness  of  extent,  is  always  implied  in  the  word 
genius. 

4.  But  the  characterization  of  genius  is  not  com 
plete  without  the  presence  of  unity.  The  inglorious 
error  has  shaded  many  minds,  that  the  man  of  genius 
is  a  splendid  fraction,  that  there  is  but  one  thing  in 


184  GENIUS. 

which  he  may  excel,  and  that  in  other  matters  he 
must  be  less  than  other  men.  Nothing  can  be  more 
untrue.  Excellence  of  nature  must  display  itself  in 
every  condition.  All  men  doubtless  excel  most  in 
that  to  which  their  minds  are  mostly  given  ;  and  that 
there  are  peculiar  adaptations  of  various  minds  to 
various  spheres,  is  equally  true  of  every  order  of  in 
tellect.  Dugald  Stuart  expressed  what  I  believe  to 
be  true  on  this  subject,  when,  speaking  of  the  Cale 
donian  bard,  he  said,  "All  the  faculties  of  Burns's 
mind  were  equally  vigorous.  From  his  conversation, 
I  should  have  pronounced  him  to  be  fitted  to  excel  in 
whatever  walk  of  ambition  he  had  chosen  to  exert 
his  abilities."  I  say  "fitted  to  excel"  in  all,  but 
probably  not  in  the  same  degree.  Harmony  of  rnind, 
the  characteristic  of  excellence,  is,  as  elsewhere  ob 
served  in  this  volume,  a  balance  of  faculties.  How 
can  a  man  of  this  class  shoot  up  into  one  idea  and  into 
one  end,  in  a  manner  to  disprove  his  natural  capacity 
to  excel  in  other  spheres  ?  The  whole  problem  is 
solved  most  clearly  in  any  one  genius  of  the  highest 
order.  Who  can  read  Shakspeare,  without  seeing 
the  philosopher,  the  artist,  the  poet,  the  legislator,  the 
man  of  letters  and  of  business,  all  existing  in  the 
author's  mind  ?  Milton  wrote  the  mighty  essay,  as 
well  as  the  divine  poem.  True,  life  is  too  short  and 
its  cares  too  numerous  to  permit  any  one  to  shine  in 
a  magnificent  splendor  in  several  callings ;  but  the 
common  error,  so  far  from  being  supported  by  this 
fact,  must  seek  its  confirmation  in  the  failures  of 
genius  to  master  the  difficulties  of  any  profession  to 
which  it  has  been  early  and  faithfully  devoted.  In 


GENIUS. 

practice,  I  will  leave  this  question  where  it  is  beauti 
fully  solved  in  the  life  of  Mozart,  and  would  advise 
the  reader,  if  he  seeks  fragmentary  greatness,  to  re 
move  his  labor  from  the  spheres  of  genius.  For  units, 
not  fractions,  are  here. 

What  flows  from  the  premises  here  stated  is  the 
conclusion,  that  the  man  of  genius  is  conscious  of  the 
harmony  of  the  universe.  He  feels  this  fact  deep  in 
his  spirit's  life  ;  and  this  universal  harmony  without, 
he  sees  and  hears  as  the  image  and  echo  of  the  fact 
within.  He  is  one  with  all.  Hence,  as  from  a  foun 
tain,  flow  the  various  melodies  of  song,  speech,  and 
deed. 

I  have  spoken  of  what  seems  to  me  the  plainest 
characteristics  of  genius,  but  riot  without  being  con 
scious  of  the  difficulty  there  is  in  defining  it.  Like 
the  mysterious  power  of  life,  we  know  it  only  in  its 
phenomena.  We  find  it  marked  by  unconscious 
ness,  naturalness,  invention,  freedom,  spontaneity, 
and  unity.  Quickness  of  energy  is  also  implied. 
All  these  point  out  its  mission  as  being  to  enlighten 
the  race  with  new  truths,  to  multiply  life's  comforts, 
to  awaken  diviner  aspirations  in  men,  to  break  up  the 
bondage  in  which  they  are  held,  to  revive  the  con 
sciousness  of  a  divine  nature,  to  scatter  the  clouds  of 
error  that  overshadow  the  pure  reason  and  the  reign 
of  law,  to  dissolve  the  coarseness  and  check  the  sel 
fish  tendencies  of  all,  to  spiritualize  human  character 
and  happiness,  to  call  into  proper  dominion  the  dis 
interested,  generous  feelings  and  virtues,  and  to 
preside  over  the  progress  of  the  ages.  This  is  the 
solemn  mission  of  all  thus  divinely  endowed. 

16* 


186 


GENII;  9. 


Amusement,  as  well  as  edification,  is  yielded  by 
those  who  seek  its  signs.  Absence  of  mind,  with  all 
the  eccentricities,  has  been  thought  its  harbinger. 
Childhood  is  sometimes  watched  as  strangely  as  the 
Roman  viewed  his  birds  of  omen.  But  absence  of 
mind,  sometimes  mistaken  for  mental  vacancy,  is  but 
the  evidence  of  abslraction.  In  a  proper  man,  it  is, 
indeed,  but  a  faithful  presence  of  mind  to  some  distant 
truth,  and  is  a  more  certain  indication  that  he  lacks 
interesting  company,  than  that  he  is  kindled  with  the 
Promethean  fire  of  this  endowment.  "  Genius  is 
eccentric, "  cries  the  popular  belief.  So  is  the  idiot 
and  the  lunatic.  But  do  they  give  us  Hamlets  and 
Manfreds  ?  What  more  than  genius  ought  to  know 
the  graceful  and  the  proper  ?  What  more  than  it 
should  be  alive  to  their  slightest  violation  ?  The 
youth,  of  whom  his  friends  can  only  say  that  he  had 
forgotten  his  Christian  name  through  intensity  of  ab 
stractions,  must  bring  better  claims  to  the  tribunal  of 
sense,  than  his  dreamy  moods,  or  leave  the  world 
unconvicted  of  his  relation  to  this  high  fraternity. 
Perhaps  it  is  only  the  intellectually  weak  and  adul 
terated  generation  who  seek  much  after  the  signs  of 
this  reality. 

A  certain  idleness  and  ha!red  of  study  are  sup 
posed  to  mark  the  man  of  genius,  —  an  opinion 
growing  out  perhaps  of  the  ease  and  spontaneity  of 
such  minds.  But  it  is  a  dissolute  error,  unworthy  of 
the  subject.  The  fact  that  genius  seizes  at  once  on 
the  strong  points  of  a  subject,  that  it  darts  to  the 
conclusion  which  costs  the  slow  logic  of  the  world 
much  longer  time  to  compass,  argues  great  innate 


GENIUS. 

activity  ;  an  activity,  in  fact,  that  knows  less  of  repose 
and  slothfulness  than  do  the  great  majority  of  men. 
Often,  when  to  appearance  there  is  no  labor,  a  deep 
and  silent  work  is  going  on,  like  the  noiseless,  invisi 
ble  agencies  of  nature  around  us,  through  which  vege 
tation,  in  a  thousand  forms  of  beauty,  springs  up,  and 
through  which  the  worlds  revolve  in  the  boundless 
space.  In  deep,  vast  souls  these  unheard  processes 
are  always  more,  far  more,  than  the  observer  con 
ceives. 

Genius  has  its  own  methods  of  study  and  reflec 
tion  ;  but  idle  it  is  not.  Its  labor  is  not  strained  :  still 
it  is  labor,  nothing  but  labor.  We  look  at  a  particu 
lar  work  of  genius,  and,  in  our  transports  among  its 
beauties,  we  forget  the  care  and  the  toil.  No  such 
work  is  done  by  magic.  Childe  Harold  is  the  ripened 
result  of  all  the  stages  through  which  Byron  had 
passed.  He  who  carries  himself  into  his  work  neces 
sarily  represents  his  entire  past ;  for  all  the  conflicts 
of  faith  and  doubt,  hope  and  realization,  reason  and 
passion,  joy  arid  sorrow,  —  all  the  facts  of  love  and 
hatred,  virtue  and  vice,  and  all  the  impressions  from 
the  endless  whirl  of  outward  circumstances  which 
he  converts  into  idea  and  symbol,  contribute  to  his 
present  power.  And  when  we  remember  that  the 
spiritual  history  of  genius  is  peculiar ;  that,  in  many 
instances,  it  includes  the  baptism  of  sorrow  and  storm, 
where  can  be  our  wisdom  when  we  infer  that  great 
labor  has  not  preceded  its  grand  and  beautiful  mon 
uments  ?  Could  we  look  into  the  unseen  realm  of 
mind,  could  we  there  behold  as  by  a  glance  all  the 
subtle  workings  of  thought  and  imagination  belong- 


188 


GENII'S. 


ing  to  the  different  periods  of  any  one  great  man,  and 
then  glance  into  the  narrower  action  of  other  minds 
thoroughly  and  constantly  absorbed  in  the  pursuits 
of  worldly  gain,  the  thought  would  never  again 
occur,  that  the  history  of  genius  is  one  of  slothful 
repose,  even  though  the  best  thoughts  may  come  in 
its  calm  and  unconscious  states. 

A  more  true  and  beautiful  indication  of  genius  is 
the  tinge  of  thoughtful  melancholy  on  a  thoughtful 
mind.  It  is  the  better  sign  of  the  deep  and  exquisite 
sensibility,  of  the  profound  depths  of  thought  and 
passion,  and  of  the  rich  experience,  by  which  the 
highest  forms  of  excellence  are  cherished.  Nature, 
in  her  highest,  mightiest  forms,  wears  this  shade. 
The  ocean,  the  mount,  the  cataract,  the  storm,  Aviike 
the  spirit  of  seriousness.  What  is  deepest  in  the 
soul  is  serious.  The  pillars  of  the  universe  never 
laugh.  Power  loves  the  solemn  tone,  though  softened 
and  brightened  by  cheerfulness.  Where  wit  of  the 
highest  order  appears,  it  implies  this  opposite  fact. 
Gilbert  Burns  testifies  that  his  brother,  in  childhood 
and  youth,  was  inclined  to  sadness;  and  some  of  his 
richest  strains  imply,  what  may  be  said  of  every  great 
poet,  that,  in  ihe  unbroken  solitude  of  the  soul,  the 
brightest  visions  are  born.  To  a  divine  spirit,  this 
world  is  but  partially  satisfying  ;  arid  in  a  world 
where  the  ruins  of  intellectual  and  moral  being  are 
so  numerous,  Avhere  the  facts  of  life  are  so  tragical, 
and  man  is  unable  to  realize  his  visions  of  good, 
genius  could  not  be  sufficiently  representative,  with 
out  a  share  of  this  feeling  in  its  construction. 

Nature  is  prophetic.     The  man  of  genius  is  some- 


GENIUS.  189 

what  inherently  led.  His  love  early  tells  to  what  he 
should  live.  Young  Schiller  in  the  storm,  eying  the 
lightning,  was  the  prophet  of  his  future.  —  But  let  us 
close  before  opening  wider  this  chapter  of  signs. 

But  men  of  genius  differ  from  each  other  most 
widely.  No  two  are  alike  in  the  exact  quality  and 
combination  of  their  powers.  And  the  universe  and 
life  are  the  true  school  of  genius,  as  richly  indeed  as 
of  talent  and  common  sense,  in  being  adapted  to  its 
development  in  all  its  needed  variety  of  forms.  The 
poet  sees  in  nature  and  life  all  he  desires  for  his 
song.  The  philosopher  looks  around  on  a  shoreless 
sea  of  cause  and  effect.  The  artist  beholds  all  as 
his,  and  the  prophet  se*es  all  as  his,  as  radiant  with 
divinity,  and  fervent  in  worship.  Perhaps  the  mys 
tery  of  nature,  its  invisible  agencies,  its  vast  and 
boundless  energy,  render  it  more  fitted  to  be  the 
nursery  of  genius,  than  if  it  were  more  definite,  sen 
sual,  and  easy  of  comprehension.  I  would  hasten, 
however,  from  these  views  to  consider  the  various 
manifestations  of  this  power. 

1.  And  perhaps  its  display  in  art,  addressing  the 
soul  through  the  senses  more  than  from  any  other 
department,  and  ministering  conjointly  to  utility  and 
beauty,  is  worthy  of  a  first  consideration.  Indeed, 
here  must  have  been  its  earliest  achievement ;  for 
man  at  first,  ignorant  of  architecture,  and,  with  the 
animal,  "joint  tenant  of  the  tree  and  shade,"  knew 
not  to  weave  his  wardrobe,  nor  invent  the  instru 
ments  of  husbandry,  defence,  and  musical  delight ; 
and,  without  models  or  teachers  to  guide  him,  must 
have  realized  his  wants  and  desires  through  the  ml- 


190  GENIUS. 

ness  of  original  invention.  Great  artistic  nature 
spread  herself  instinctively  around  him  ;  and.  seeing 
in  her  various  structure  the  principles  of  art,  he  drew 
thence  the  primary  lessons  by  which  to  rear  the 
temple  and  the  city.  In  the  world's  first  stages, 
genius  was  man's  highest  aid,  necessarily  rude  to  be 
sure,  but  still,  like  Hercules,  doing  wonders  in  its 
infancy. 

Art  has  three  great  epochs ;  and,  since  it  is  but  an 
exhibition  of  human  intellect,  each  of  these  corre 
sponds  to  the  general  state  of  the  civilization  belong 
ing  thereto.  In  the  East,  it  \vas  doubtless  less 
perfect,  though  some  strong  monuments  still  remain  ; 
yet  the  mind,  unaided  by  previous  and  beautiful 
models,  must  have  been  rich  in  original  force.  But 
the  Greek  had  a  fine,  harmonious  nature  ;  and, 
under  skies  of  mildness  and  circumstances  of  favor, 
he  gave  to  art  a  perfect  expression,  —  one  that  em 
bodied  the  harmony  and  gladness  of  his  own  mind. 
He  knew  the  wonderful  mysteries  of  form ;  and, 
under  the  spiritual  tendencies  of  his  age,  he  gave  to 
the  statue  his  pure  idea  of  the  beauty  of  the  gods, 
so  perfectly  as  never  again  to  be  excelled.  Religion 
was  the  inspiration  of  art.  —  But  this  beautiful  era 
need  not  be  repeated.  Statues  are  not  men  ;  and 
great  deeds  are  wrought  by  history  into  statues. 

Speaking  of  the  world  as  an  individual,  we  may 
say  that  the  genius  of  art  wrought  from  the  fancy 
o'f  youth,  but  that  in  later  stages  it  shall  probably 
take  more  manly  forms,  proving  that  art,  Avith  its 
glories  of  the  past,  is  but  half  grown  ;  that  Phidias, 
Praxitiles,  Polydore,  and  Raphael,  may  be  sur- 


GENIUS.  191 

passed.  Whenever  the  human  mind  shall  attain  to 
a  more  perfect  state,  I  conceive  that  it  will  be  accom 
panied  by  a  corresponding  perfection  of  form  and 
feature;  which,  speaking  from  the  statue  and  the 
canvas,  shall  constitute  an  increased  beauty  of  art. 

The  moderns  eye  the  useful ;  and  their  miracles, 
for  the  most  part,  wear  the  color  of  gain ;  all  which, 
for  the  time,  are  in  place.  But  whilst  the  Ark- 
wrights,  Fultons,  and  Morses,  have  multiplied  the 
useful,  West,  Allston,  and  Powers,  have  revealed 
divine  beauty  in  the  refined ;  and  everywhere  the 
taste  of  the  people  begins  to  apply  the  fruits  of  genius 
in  adding  ornament  and  grace  to  their  homes.  The 
third  epoch  of  art,  which  has  begun  somewhat  in 
eclecticism,  is  to  end  —  let  time  determine;  but  we 
will  prophesy  honorably  to  the  doctrine  of  the  pro 
gress  of  ages :  only  it  cannot  be  expected  that  the 
past  shall  be  repeated,  that  any  one  era  of  art  shall 
be  the  copy  of  another. 

Artistic  genius  speaks  to  all  with  a  silent,  inexpli 
cable  skill.  It  is  simple  in  its  grandeur,  as  they  who 
have  beheld  its  miracles  in  Italy  with  an  ingenuous 
eye  say  that  the  divinest  charm  is  the  spiritual  part, 
the  indefinable  expression,  the  radiation  of  character 
from  stone  and  canvas,  the  language  of  thought 
and  feeling  there  inscribed,  that  wakes  in  the  be 
holder  the  deepest  and  simplest  attributes  of  his  own 
nature.  When  we  have  felt  the  witchery  of  perfect 
music,  and  the  mystery  of  the  canvas,  for  a  time  we 
are  conscious  of  being  restored  to  ourselves ;  for  the 
hour,  thought  reigns  like  the  stars,  and  we  are  true 
and  worshipful. 


192  GENIUS. 

2.  Genius  is  also  philosophic,  and,  by  its  bold 
glances,  discovers  the  shady  fountains  of  causation. 
Its  forms  and  manifestations  are  infinite  ;  but,  under 
these,  the  genius  of  philosophy  has  been  ever  the 
same,  —  the  power  to  seize  on  the  connections  of 
cause  and  effect ;  to  discover  the  universal  law  in 
volved  in  facts ;  to  unite,  as  by  creative  energy, 
isolated  truths  into  accordant  system ;  to  readily  dis 
engage  a  truth  from  cumbersome  errors  ;  to  detect 
the  subtle  and  numberless  analogies  that  unite  the 
various  truths  of  different  sciences ;  and,  from  the 
data  of  the  known,  to  rise  to  the  unknown.  Few  are 
endowed  with  this  order  of  mind,  from  whose  emi 
nence  descend  into  society  all  great  discoveries,  and 
from  whose  agency  the  knowledge  of  mankind  is 
increased. 

The  period  of  reflection  naturally  succeeds  that  of 
observation.  We  first  know  facts,  and  afterwards 
ask  for  their  law.  Hence  THE  age  of  philosophy  was 
late  in  the  world's  history,  as  late  as  the  development 
of  the  Greek  intellect,  which,  in  its  fine  balance  of 
reason  and  fancy,  was  as  well  prepared  to  trace  the 
law  of  matter  and  mind  as  to  enshrine  the  beautiful 
in  statues  and  poems.  The  Oriental  mind  held  too 
great  an  ascendency  of  imagination  and  feeling  to 
make  a  proper  independent  epoch  in  philosophy, 
although  it  had  a  radiation  of  reason  subordinate  to, 
and  reflected  from,  its  religion.*  Socrates,  born  in 
the  third  year  of  the  seventy-seventh  Olympiad,  was 
the  genius,  the  creator  of  this  order  and  form  of 

*  See  note,  p.  206. 


GENIUS.  193 

thought ;  and,  rising  above  the  sensuous  symbolism 
around  him,  he  sought  to  acquaint  man  with  himself, 
and  to  bring  out  the  immortal  qualities  of  his  nature. 
And  that  he  found  mortal  foes  in  the  sophists  and  in 
the  superstition  of  his  times,  which  caused  his  com 
posed  but  unnatural  death,  as  the  sun  was  sinking  in 
radiance  amid  nature's  holy  and  eloquent  calm,  is 
but  the  witness  of  circumstance  attesting  his  superi 
ority  to  the  age  and  the  community  he  had  labored 
to  bless. 

Beneath  the  common  consciousness,  there  is  a 
philosophic  consciousness  in  him  whose  peculiar 
combination  of  powers  gives  philosophic  genius. 
Reason  acts  almost  as  a  spiritual  instinct.  Newtons 
and  Bacons  come  not  of  discipline.  And  in  the 
detection  of  law,  which  genius  makes  in  the  most 
wonderful  phenomena  of  nature  and  mind,  it  dissi 
pates  the  clouds  of  superstitious  belief,  and  awakens 
the  delight  consequent  on  the  contemplation  of  the 
universe,  as  being  the  subject  of  an  order,  beautiful, 
uniform,  and  unceasing.  But  for  this  order  of  genius, 
the  fanciful  veil  of  mythology  had  still  enshrouded 
the  operations  of  nature  from  our  view. 

The  soul  is  the  highest  object  of  philosophy  in 
nature ;  and  its  analysis  preceded  inquiry  into  the 
outward  elements,  as  Palestine,  Greece,  Egypt,  and 
India,  do  show.  But  the  soul  is  ever  too  great  for 
the  measurements  of  the  reasoner.  We  rejoice  that 
the  signs  of  the  times  clearly  demonstrate,  that  the 
genius  of  philosophy  is  seeking  a  spiritual  basis,  that 
it  is  looking  more  and  more  into  the  inward  con 
sciousness,  that  its  materialism  is  becoming  but  the 
17 


194  GENIUS. 

shadow  and  illustration  of  its  higher  faith.  But  I 
will  dismiss  this  order  of  genius,  which  is  evidently 
the  highest,  considered  as  a  mere  intellectual  power, 
with  the  remark,  that,  as  the  mind  in  every  age  must 
reflect  itself,  its  future  advance  must  be  accompanied 
with  higher  forms  of  philosophy  as  well  as  of  art ; 
for  the  spirit  of  reflection,  having  its  spring  in  the 
nature  of  man,  can  never  cease,  but  must  come  into 
greater  ascendency,  as  the  age  of  the  world  ad 
vances.  Youth  observes ;  age  reflects. 

3.  Genius  in  poetry  revives  the  enthusiasm  of  early 
years ;  gives  new  visions  of  the  beautiful ;  makes 
vocal  the  daisy,  fountain,  and  star  ;  puts  us  into  con 
scious  union  with  ourselves,  and  earth  and  air  and 
sea  and  sky.  It  gives  voice  to  life's  facts,  to  the 
soul's  struggles ;  it  touches  the  spirit's  mysteries ; 
brings  out  the  unspoken  eloquence  of  passion ;  and, 
under  its  various  speech,  the  mount,  the  storm,  and 
the  great  tumultuous  sea,  the  many-shaped  clouds, 
the  day-orb,  burning  ever  in  his  tranquil  sea  of 
space,  with  the  infinitude  of  nature's  lesser  things,  — 
all  grow  into  brotherhood  with  the  spirit ;  all  echo 
its  divinest  facts  and  feelings.  Genius  comes  into 
the  dulness  of  life,  to  "  make  all  things  new,"  to 
teach  and  inspire  that  nobler  self  which  is  but  half 
known  in  our  phenomenal  lives. 

Genius  here,  as  elsewhere,  is  creative  and  uncon 
scious.  It  is  alive  to  the  living,  unwritten  poetry  of 
the  external  creation.  In  its  best  moments,  nature 
appears  one  vast  and  ever-varying  poem.  Its  pic 
tures  are  definite  and  vivid.  Genius  does  not  give 
the  exact  thing  it  portrays  ;  does  not  show  us  the 


GENIUS.  195 

exact  pine,  brook,  light,  rose,  and  darkness,  but 
the  expression  of  these,  —  these  as  they  are  under 
its  own  colors.  What  we  see  by  the  imagination  is 
a  step  beyond,  or  may  be  so,  that  which  we  see 
by  the  sense.  The  leaf  and  cataract  you  meet  in 
poetry,  you  thus  see ;  and  the  imagination  should 
be  so  addressed,  that  its  highest  appreciative  power 
may  fully  meet  the  highest  ideal  of  the  writer.  Then 
storm,  fountain,  and  star,  are  seen  with  increased 
hues  of  beauty.  Beholding  at  distance  also  serves 
to  raise  the  ideal  above  the  scenes  and  acts  which 
first  suggested  it. 

Mere  talent,  under  good  discipline,  not  unfre- 
quently  produces  respectable  poems,  and  wins  for  a 
time  the  honors  due  alone  to  genius.  The  skilful 
wax-figure,  at  a  distance,  may  be  mistaken  for  the 
living  original.  But  the  real  signs  of  power  are  want 
ing  ;  the  free,  living,  burning  fire  of  life  is  not  there. 
We  detect  both  the  absence  and  the  presence  of 
genius  by  that  we  cannot  define.  But  we  may  usu 
ally  observe  in  the  genuine  production,  that  the  body 
of  poetry  has  higher  grace ;  that  its  variations  of 
measure  and  sound  accord  with  the  inimitable  spirit 
that  creates,  as  the  eye,  face,  walk,  and  form  of  the 
superior  man  bear  the  impress  of  his  soul.  Themes 
are  also  well  chosen,  and  usually  not  very  much 
from  the  field  of  the  author's  interests  and  particular 
experience.*  The  prince  of  poets  never  contrived  to 

*  But  Goethe,  it  is  said,  constantly  turned  his  experience  into 
poetry,  getting  a  song  out  of  each  particular  sorrow.  Burns  evi 
dently  did  the  same  to  a  limited  extent.  But,  in  these  poems, 
there  flows  the  same  generous,  disinterested  feeling  that  charac- 


196  GENIUS. 

thrust  himself  upon  you.  Genius  is  not  satisfied 
in  giving  single  things,  however  beautiful  they  are ; 
but  darts  out  into  associations,  connects  the  object 
it  views  with  analogous  reality  ;  and,  in  its  sublimest 
and  humblest  coursings,  you  can  see  the  philosopher 
beneath  the  action  of  the  poet ;  for  no  man  gives  to 
poem  divineness  of  thought  who  does  not  penetrate 
nature  and  life  with  a  philosopher's  eye.  After  all  the 
graces  are  exhausted,  the  confession  must  come, 
that  poetry,  separate  from  its  depth,  energy,  variety, 
fitness,  and  originality  of  thought,  is  but  a  painted 
figure,  a  mere  concord  of  sounds.  To  call  genuine 
poetry  light  reading  is  to  confess  a  total  ignorance 
of  its  mission  and  meaning ;  for  everywhere  it  is  the 
fragrant  bloom  of  the  tree  of  knowledge.  It  is  cer 
tainly  through  a  deep  wisdom  that  one  is  enabled  to 
give  the  most  inspiring  expression  to  the  emotions, 
thoughts,  language,  hopes,  fears,  vices,  and  virtues  of 
mankind.  But  this  philosophical  element  is  some 
what  out  of  sight,  whilst  the  images  and  glow  of 
imagination  are  nearer  the  common  gaze.  The 
perfect  union  of  this  penetrating  wisdom,  with  the 
simplicity  and  freshness  of  conception  and  feeling 
belonging  to  the  child,  more  than  all  else,  forms 
the  true  poet.  He  is  the  child  expanded  into  the 
man. 

The  Iliad  implies  an  immense  creator  in  the  past, 

terizes  the  general  theme.  Individual  life,  as  well  as  the  earth 
and  the  heavens,  one  might  reasonably  suppose,  may  be  translated 
into  poetry,  when  the  writer  can  view  its  facts  with  as  entire  a 
freedom  from  egotism  as  that  with  which  he  contemplates  the 
facts  of  history  and  of  nature. 


GENIUS.  197 

who  was  as  much  the  genius  of  song  as  Socrates  of 
reflection.  The  one  was  the  high  priest  at  the  shrines 
of  imagination ;  the  other,  at  the  altars  of  reason. 

Shakspeare  —  who,  like  the  priesthood  of  Mel- 
chisedek,  appears  to  stand  out  by  himself,  without 
father  or  mother,  precession  or  succession,  in  his  art ; 
and,  still  more,  without  an  "  end  of  life  "  as  to  the 
perpetuity  of  his  creations  —  is  the  greatest  monu 
ment  of  the  most  various  genius. 

Byron  can  never  be  greater  than  he  now  is, 
through  the  verdict  of  future  time,  although  society 
may  concede  to  him  a  better  nature  and  heart.  For 
saken  in  childhood  by  his  dissipated  father,  and  left 
to  the  maternal  care  of  one  as  impetuous  as  her  son, 
who  outstripped  the  verbs  even  in  the  number  of  her 
moods,  and  whose  treatment  blended  the  extremes 
of  rage  and  idolatrous  fondness,  his  early  discipline 
was  at  once  the  prophecy  of  his  after-life,  in  which 
the  public  either  bowed  in  the  fulness  of  worship,  or 
by  denunciation  rocked  the  ground  he  trod.  He 
was  the  poet  of  the  passions,  the  "  rose  and  thorn 
combined."  His  genius  rose  unconsciously  into 
sublime  description.  His  intensity  of  thought  and 
passion  was  nearly  the  same ;  and  the  evils  of  his 
life,  as  well  as  his  peculiar  nature,  —  the  persecution 
which  drove  him  beyond  the  Alps,  and  made  his 
home  on  the  shores  of  the  Adriatic,  the  various  sor 
rows  and  misfortunes  that  rendered  his  being  on 
earth  as  "  a  life  on  the  ocean-wave,  and  a  home  on 
the  rolling  deep,"  where  his  wild  harp  gave  out  its 
sad  music  to  the  elements,  —  all  conspired  to  the 
breathing  forth  of  that  melancholy  beauty  which 
17* 


198  GENIUS. 

shades  his  Harold,  his  Manfred,  and  nearly  all  his 
poems  of  sentimenj^,  with  gloom.  Life  and  nature 
have  a  side  of  doubt,  darkness,  and  gloom  ;  the 
great  fact  is  here,  and  it  is  fit  that  it  should  be  repre 
sented,  —  if  not  in  union  with  the  light,  then  separate 
and  alone.  Bard  of  Albion  !  thou  art  not  alone. 
Real  is  the  sombre  realm  that  waited  for  thy  pen. 

Burns,  more  than  any  other  perhaps,  the  people's 
poet,  —  sweet  and  eloquent  in  all  his  touches  of 
nature,  though  not  to  titles,  wealth,  and  science 
born,  —  recalls  the  name  of  Byron,  from  that  simili 
tude  of  personal  history  which  presents  each  as 
having  risen  through  the  power  of  his  genius,  and 
each  as  having  fallen  through  the  force  of  his  pas 
sions.  Burns  excels  in  giving  nature  in  her  sim 
plicity.  Byron  goes  back  farther  into  her  shades  and 
solitudes,  into  her  complexities  and  mystery ;  ex 
tracts  and  transforms,  and  gives  more  of  "  the  light 
of  light,  and  the  gloom  of  gloom."  With  both,  the 
sun  of  life  went  down  at  noon,  when  they  were  best 
prepared  for  greatness  of  effort. 

But  I  will  not  remain  longer  in  this  department  of 
my  subject.  Heaven  bestows  no  higher  gift  than 
the  true  poet  who  has  "  THE  VISION  AND  THE  FACULTY 
DIVINE  "  with  which  to  inspire  his  race.  But  no 
where  is  genius  more  perverted,  except  it  be  in  "  the 
fair  fields  of  old  "  and  new  romance,  in  which  grand 
creations  are  rare,  since  the  Wizard  of  the  North 
laid  down  his  harp  to  die.  Indeed,  there  are  pas 
sages  and  pages  of  the  poets  I  have  named,  that  no 
earthly  reward  should  induce  the  lover  of  purity  to 
Don  Juan,  though  a  monument  to  the  per- 


GENIUS.  199 

feet  genius  of  its  author,  is  but  a  splendid  offering  to 
Satan,  —  is  the  devil's  poem  in  all  its  moral  attri 
butes.  But  the  eras  of  poetry  are  and  will  be  up 
ward.  When  man  does  nobler  thing-S)  then  will 
come  nobler  poets  and  diviner  songs. 

4.  Moral  genius  discovers,  as  by  the  glance  of  the 
eye,  the  moral  laws  involved  in  actions,  though 
clouded  by  the  conflicts  of  interest,  —  sees  the  beauty 
and  supremacy  of  Right,  where  others  behold  only 
the  loss  and  the  gain.  This  order  of  genius,  like 
every  other,  is  intuitive  and  spontaneous.  A  man 
possessing  it  consults  not  authority  on  questions  of 
ethics.  He  glances  at  the  law,  and  this  is  the  au 
thority.  Confucius,  perhaps  the  best  illustration  of 
moral  genius  in  the  pagan  antiquity,  constantly  re 
veals  the  power  of  beholding  the  ethical  element  as 
transfused  through  every  variety  of  subject.  He 
saw  ethics  in  the  soul.  The  fine  moral  fibre  such 
minds  possess,  make  them  unconsciously  alive  to  all 
the  lights  and  shades  of  moral  distinction.  Indeed, 
there  is  no  agency  which,  in  its  universal  action,  in 
uncorrupted  minds,  more  resembles  the  power  of 
genius  than  the  faculty  of  conscience.  Power, 
quickness,  and  spontaneity,  are  its  general  attributes. 
Swedenborg  had  in  his  mind  an  exceedingly  fine 
view  of  moral  genius,  I  think,  when  he  said  the 
angels  do  not  reason  concerning  their  duty.  The 
more  perfect  our  moral  feelings,  the  clearer  is  the 
intellectual  eye  to  behold  what  is  right,  and  the  more 
instinctively  do  we  embrace  the  good,  and  shrink 
from  the  evil.  We  see,  without  reasoning  on  sight. 
We  hear,  without  reasoning  on  sound.  So  there  is 


200  GENIUS. 

a  free  logic  of  the  breast  growing  more  perfect  with 
progress  in  goodness,  that  can  well  dispense  with 
book-exposition ;  and  the  time  may  possibly  come, 
that  none,  obeying  their  moral  light,  need  to  reason 
concerning  their  duty.  Moral  genius  comes  near 
to  this. 

When  such  contemplate  the  universe,  they  view 
its  end  as  moral.  When  they  discourse  of  man,  and 
of  the  great  problems  that  touch  upon  his  welfare, 
they  contemplate  them  from  the  moral  point  of  view. 
They  cannot  discuss  freedom  or  slavery  from  the 
statute-book,  or  the  fortunes  lost  or  won.  This 
order  of  genius  knows  goodness  as  greater  than 
talent  and  power.  It  implies  good  quality  and  com 
pass  of  intellect,  fertilized  by  the  moral  feelings. 

5.  But,  before  the  dismissal  of  this  theme,  I  would 
speak  a  word  on  genius  in  the  Sacred ;  for  the  idea 
of  the  Sacred  overshadows  the  nations,  and  the  feel 
ing  is  most  deep  and  universal  under  each  form  of 
barbarism  and  civilization.  As  religion  is  the  grand 
est  element  of  our  nature,  as  its  ideas  are  creative  in 
the  production  of  character,  and  as  they  are  inwoven 
into  the  sublimest  forms  of  human  hope,  it  follows 
that  men  of  the  sacred  order  of  genius  should  exist. 
They  are  needed  to  speak  as  originals  to  mankind, 
to  awaken  the  element  of  worship  into  life,  to  lead 
them  into  new  and  nobler  views  of  the  Divine 
nature,  to  open  the  new  epochs  of  man's  religious 
advance,  to  dismiss  from  the  old  what  has  become 
dead,  to  appropriate  the  new  into  the  wider  forms 
of  truth,  and  clothe  the  commonplace  of  human 
faith  with  new  life  and  verdure.  The  prophet,  there- 


GENIUS. 


201 


fore,  has  the  highest  order  of  genius.  Beneath  na 
ture's  wide  and  beautiful  symbolism,  he  sees  the 
Invisible.  To  him,  all  nature  is  conscious  of  Divine 
Presence  ;  and  the  vast  tide  of  circumstance  for  ever 
murmurs  of  God  in  its  flow.  The  oracular,  not 
wholly  extinct  yet  in  human  bosoms,  mingles  some 
what  in  his  reason  ;  and,  like  certain  birds  conscious 
of  approaching  storm  .and  winter,  does,  in  its  pre 
monitions,  picture  the  destiny  of  a  people  in  their 
lives.  Mohammed  must  have  had  a  spark  of  this 
sacred  fire  to  have  enlivened  his  desert  with  a  better 
faith  and  worship.  The  prophet  speaks  to  the  heart 
the  "  words  that  bum ;  "  and  so  true  does  he  speak, 
that  the  floods  cannot  stay  him.  Jerusalem  may 
easily  compromise  with  her  priest ;  but,  in  her  sen 
sual  states,  she  is  ever  inclined  to  stone  her  prophets ; 
for  the  prophet-glance  into  humanity  always  dis 
covers  the  spirit  as  supreme,  and  all  his  messages 
are  spoken  accordingly. 

To  all  nature's  and  life's  facts  there  is  a  divine 
voice,  did  we  but  hear  it.  But  the  ear  is  dull  and 
the  eye  is  dim  through  the  alienation  of  life  ;  and  the 
man  of  sacred  genius  breaks  through  these  barriers, 
moves  the  spirit  in  its  calm  and  awful  deeps,  so  that 
the  soul  once  more  awakes  to  the  divine  features  of 
its  existence. 

We  stand  in  the  presence  of  this  order  of  genius 
as  under  the  shadow  of  the  Almighty.  We  stand  in 
awe,  concious  that  authority  addresses  us.  The  gale 
grows  into  a  sacred  tone.  The  religious  note  is 
struck  in  our  bosoms,  and  the  harp  of  the  universe 
trembles  in  its  melody.  Oh  !  tell  us  not  that  divine 


202  GENIUS. 

gifts  have  died  with  an  ancient  age.  God  lives. 
The  soul  remains.  Nature  is  not  dead.  As  the  eye 
is  the  prophecy  of  light,  and  the  ear  of  sound,  so 
are  the  spirit's  everlasting  yearnings  the  prophecy 
that  the  order  of  sacred  genius  shall  never  perish 
from  the  earth.  —  But  I  should  draw  this  article  to 
a  close.  I  began  with  the  Artist :  I  end  with  the 
Prophet. 

In  the  metaphysical  part  of  this  essay,  I  have 
endeavoured  to  show  that  genius  is  not  a  new  facul 
ty  superadded  to  those  the  mass  of  mankind  possess. 
I  have  treated  it  as  the  general  result  of  the  large 
amount,  the  superior  quality,  and  the  happy  combi 
nation  of  elements,  which,  in  different  degrees  and 
states,  all  participate.  From  the  predominance  of 
particular  elements  in  the  combination,  influenced 
somewhat  by  developing  circumstances,  I  would 
account  for  the  peculiar  adaptations  of  genius  in  dif 
ferent  men  for  art,  philosophy,  poetry,  ethics,  and 
religion.  I  have  assumed  that  the  principle  on  which 
genius  is  understood  by  the  many  is  that  of  kindred 
powers,  and  what  apparently  opposes  this  view,  that 
few  possess  genius  in  the  sense  of  being  able  to 
create. 

But  the  harmony  of  these  positions  appears  when 
it  is  considered,  that  the  reader  reads  what  genius 
writes,  the  observer  observes  what  genius  does,  and 
not  what  the  processes  of  mind  actually  were.  The 
genius  lies  in  the  conception  and  in  the  processes ; 
but  the  truth  given,  and  the  work  done,  are,  much 
more  than  the  processes,  within  the  range  of  the 
observer's  vision.  Moreover,  it  is  natural  for  gifted 


GENIUS.  203 

minds  to  awaken  by  communication  a  kindred  action 
in  other  minds  for  the  time,  through  which  apprecia 
tion  takes  place  on  the  principle  of  kindredness.  I 
think,  that  the  true  doctrine  of  mental  sympathy  and 
mutual  appreciation  is  fully  expressed  in  two  gen 
eral  conditions,  which  are,  —  \st,  Kindred  powers ; 
and,  2d,  Kindred  states.  Without  the  former,  there 
would  exist  the  insurmountable  barriers  that  sepa 
rate  vegetable  from  animal  existences,  and  these 
from  the  reciprocal  communion  of  human  intelli 
gences.  And,  without  the  proximity  of  states,  there 
can  be  but  partial  reciprocity  —  no  farther  than  a 
kindred  state  previously  exists,  or  has  been  awakened 
by  the  action  of  the  superior  mind.  But  the  fact 
of  kindred  powers  lies  in  human  nature ;  and  the 
school  of  life  is  such  that  all  experience  substantially 
similar  facts.  All  are  conscious,  at  one  time  or 
another,  of  each  of  the  passions,  emotions,  and  as 
pirations  of  man ;  so  that  there  is  enough  of  the 
kindred  state  to  admit  of  general  admiration  for  the 
highest  gifts  Heaven  has  bestowed. 

But  the  very  excellence  of  genius,  its  fulness  of 
feeling,  susceptibility,  and  imagination,  implies  im 
portant  dangers.  Great  inequalities  of  feeling  are 
violent  tempters  to  intemperance  and  various  pas 
sional  excess.  The  child  of  nature,  in  the  blaze  of 
kindling  animation,  and  in  the  agitations  of  high 
elements  of  reason  and  passion,  often  forgets  the 
solemn  supremacy  of  right,  and  falls  into  errors, 
which  seem  the  darker  because  they  contrast  with 
the  splendors  of  superior  qualities.  We  note  dark 
ness  on  the  sun.  Beneath  the  cloud  of  evils  common 


204  GENIUS. 

to  genius  is  seen  a  nobleness  which  the  sweet  bard 
of  Scotia  has  thus  expressed  :  — 

"  I  saw  thy  pulse's  maddening  play 
Wild  send  thee  pleasure's  devious  way  ; 
Misled  by  Fancy's  meteor  ray, 

By  passion  driven ; 
But  yet  the  light  that  led  astray 

Was  light  from  Heaven." 

But  that  men  of  genius  are  irritable,  that  a  distrust 
of  reward  in  an  adequate  reputation  breaks  in  upon 
goodness  of  temper,  is  a  charge  sufficiently  over 
thrown  by  the  highest  examples.  The  cheerfulness 
flowing  through  all  the  writings  of  Chaucer,  the 
sweetness  and  evenness  of  temper  so  common  in 
Shakspeare,  and  the  calm  self-reliance  that  the  pos 
session  of  great  inward  power  naturally  gives,  con 
signs  to  darkness  this  gross  opinion.  Genius  is 
self-assured ;  and  it  is  no  small  part  of  its  mission 
to  kindle  light  and  cheerfulness  along  the  path  of 
misfortune  and  despair. 

We  would  add  to  the  intellect  the  moral  splendors, 
in  due  proportion  ;  for  these  are  the  lasting  charm, 
and  will  beam  in  effulgence  from  nature  and  from 
God  when  the  memory  of  talent  has  faded.  Let  no 
man  forget,  that  he  is  bound  by  the  everlasting 
law  of  responsibility,  either  through  his  greatness  of 
gifts,  or  his  wonders  of  success.  As  well  might 
Saturn  refuse  to  revolve  around  the  sun,  because  by 
her  moons  and  rings  she  is  more  magnificent  than 
her  sister-planets.  Gifts  are  but  means.  The  end  is 
all.  As  the  universe  has  no  particle  unsubject  to 


GENIUS. 

law,  neither  has  it  a  moral  intelligence  irresponsible 
to  the  great  Retributive  Right. 

When  the  seed  of  genius  is  in  man's  mind,  all 
things  at  once  turn  matron  and  nurse.  He  blooms 
on  the  rock,  the  hill,  and  the  wild.  The  whirlwinds 
and  the  zephyrs,  —  all  things,  —  nature,  life,  death, 
—  friends,  foes,  success  and  disappointment,  —  all 
lights  and  all  shades,  —  do  a  good  and  perhaps  an 
equal  service.  All  minister  to  feed  the  sacred  flame. 
The  critics  help  ;  and,  when  all  passion  is  down,  the 
only  great  and  true  critic,  the  human  heart,  bids  him 
live  ;  and  the  law  that  binds  the  star  of  the  north  to 
his  place  is  not  more  inflexible  and  unceasing  than 
this  simple  bidding. 

"  It  is  interesting  to  notice,"  says  Washington  Ir 
ving,  "  how  some  minds  seem  almost  to  create  them 
selves  ;  springing  up  under  every  disadvantage,  and 
working  their  solitary  but  irresistible  way  through  a 
thousand  obstacles.  Nature  seems  to  delight  in  dis 
appointing  the  assiduities  of  art,  with  which  k  would 
rear  legitimate  dulness  to  maturity ;  and  to  glory  in 
the  vigor  and  luxuriance  of  her  chance  productions. 
She  scatters  the  seeds  of  genius  to  the  winds ;  and 
though  some  may  perish  in  the  stony  places  of  the 
world,  and  some  be  choked  by  the  thorns  and  bram 
bles  of  early  adversity,  yet  others  will  strike  root 
even  in  the  clefts  of  the  rock,  struggle  bravely  up 
into  sunshine,  and  spread  over  their  sterile  birth 
place  all  the  beauties  of  vegetation."  * 

*  Sketch-book. 

•  :: 

18 


206  GENIUS. 

NOTE.  —  See  p.  192. 

In  speaking  of  the  East  as  not  being  the  period  in  which 
philosophical  genius  had  its  most  perfect  development, 
it  is  not  meant  that  the  East  had  no  philosophical  reflec 
tion.  For  Egypt,  India,  and  Palestine,  had  inquired  into 
causation,  and  had  investigated  the  mind  before  they  had 
inquired  much  into  the  nature  and  properties  of  the  sur 
rounding  material  elements.  But  the  individual  was  too 
much  overwhelmed  by  a  reverence  for  the  Infinite.  Be 
fore  the  idea  of  the  Vast,  the  Infinite,  and  the  Incom 
prehensible,  the  Orientalist  bowed  himself  so  fully  as  to 
retain  but  a  dim  perception  of  the  individual  freedom  and 
grandeur  of  the  soul.  Man  became,  as  it  were,  annihilated 
and  lost  in  this  contemplation  and  worship  of  the  Imper 
sonal  and  the  Unseen.  Although  the  religious  element 
may  be  strongly,  though  we  think  not  so  healthily,  ex 
pressed  in  this  effort  to  realize  a  self-oblivion  and  absorp 
tion  in  the  One  Infinite,  it  is  plain  that  the  annihilation 
of  man  is  the  removal  of  the  very  source  whence  philo 
sophy  is  to  start.  An  independent  school  of  philosophy 
must  start  from  man,  from  the  soul.  In  Greece  it  was 
different.  Their  gods  were  personal,  were  but  deified 
men.  The  sufficiency  of  human  nature  is  there  constantly 
displayed.  They  hoped  for  nothing  for  which  human 
capacity  was  not  adequate.  They  stood  therefore  on 
better  ground,  and  had,  we  think,  a  more  philosophical 
as  well  as  a  finer  aesthetic  nature. 

St.  Paul,  with  a  single  but  masterly  touch  of  descrip 
tion,  gives  us  the  difference  between  the  Jew  and  the 
Greek.  The  one  "required  a  sign;"  the  other  sought 
"  after  wisdom"  (Sophian) :  that  is  to  say,  the  Jew  is  only 
satisfied  by  supernatural  phenomena ;  the  Greek,  by  intel 
lectual,  by  the  phenomena  of  reason.  The  Jews,  indeed, 


GENIUS.  207 

never  were  an  aesthetic  nor  a  philosophical  race,  although 
the  religious  element  had  vast  depth  in  these  sons  of 
Abraham.  It  was  therefore  to  a  religious  development 
that  they  were  called.  There  is  in  this  descriptive  differ 
ence  a  hint  at  the  general  difference  between  the  Oriental 
ist  and  the  Greek.  The  former  was  absorbed  in  the  purely 
religious  phenomena,  in  which  nothing  is  recognized  but 
the  Supreme.  Man,  and  all  else,  is  nothing.  All  indi 
viduals  are  but  bubbles  on  the  ocean  of  Deity,  soon  to 
dissolve  into  his  breast.  Reverence  for  God  is  so  isolated 
as  to  annihilate  man.  In  this  state  of  the  human  mind, 
it  is  plain  that  the  religious  element,  in  its  powerful 
development,  encroaches  on  the  philosophical,  at  least 
enough  to  make  the  light  of  the  latter  a  reflection  from 
the  former.  The  Jews,  indeed,  never  had  an  independent 
philosophy ;  and  the  Orientalist  generally,  though  not 
destitute  of  this  order  of  reflection,  had  not,  we  think,  the 
acute  analysis  characteristic  of  the  land  of  Pythagoras, 
and  the  son  of  Ariston. 


208 


BEAUTY 


CHAPTER  I. 

One  hath  a  vision  or  a  dreame, 

So  full  of  charminge  image,  that 

It  lingers  long  in  courts  of  memorie 

And  love."  OLD  POEM. 


I  HAVE  long  supposed  that  some  useful  thoughts 
might  be  given  on  this  subject,  if  they  served  no 
other  purpose  than  to  awaken  a  people  extensively 
given  up  to  pursuits  of  gain,  in  a.  small  degree  to 
cultivate  the  pleasure  which  appreciation  of  the 
Beautiful  always  brings.  Whatever  fortune  may 
deny  to  mankind,  Heaven,  all  generous,  grants  this 
luxury  to  all,  to  the  unfortunate  of  every  grade. 
For  over  all  there  spreads  a  glorious  sky :  the  stars, 
the  light,  the  cloud,  the  earth,  are  as  radiant  in 
beauty  to  one  as  to  another.  Art  may  leave  its 
miracles  in  the  halls  and  galleries  of  affluence  chiefly ; 
but  the  Infinite  Artist  profusely  scatters  the  miracles 
of  beauty  over  all  the  earth.  What  we  want  is  the 
spirit  to  discern  and  enjoy  this  universal  attribute, 
through  which  the  universe  might  yield  to  all  men  a 
happiness  which  but  few  comparatively  enjoy. 


BEAUTY.  209 

That  all  mankind  are  designed  to  partake  of  this 
spiritual  happiness,  there  can  be  no  reasonable  doubt. 
This,  indeed,  may  be  fairly  inferred  from  the  univer 
sal  diffusion  of  beauty  through  the  creation,  and  from 
the  universal  capacity  of  man  to  detect  its  presence. 
This  capacity  in  many,  we  admit,  is  still  feeble, 
owing  to  a  want  of  proper  development :  the  coarse 
ness  of  animal  excess,  the  surrender  of  the  human 
mind  to  low  aims,  and  the  depressing  influence  of 
many  outward  circumstances,  are  obstacles  in  the 
way  of  this  appreciation.  Still,  the  ability  is  univer* 
sal,  and  its  cultivation  is  within  the  reach  of  every 
human  being  endowed  with  reason  and  the  senses. 
The  child  is  naturally  fond  of  beauty.  Here  is  a 
great  proof  of  nature  putting  to  silence  the  unbelief 
of  multitudes  in  their  ability  to  enjoy  this  high  con 
tribution  of  the  external  world  to  their  elevation  and 
happiness.  Even  in  the  most  uncultivated,  there  are 
bright  evidences  of  its  existence.  The  green  plants 
greeting  your  eye  through  the  windows  of  poverty,  — 
the  unlettered  children  of  nature  you  see  gathered 
about  the  fountain  on  the  open  green  of  a  city,  or  at 
the  foot  of  the  cataract  or  wild  mountain  scene, 
instruct  us  that  a  yearning  for  the  true  and  beautiful 
still  lives  in  the  human  heart,  though  overclouded 
by  every  mental  disadvantage.  I  claim,  therefore, 
that  this  is  a  theme  for  all. 

Especially  in  this  country,  whose  rivers,  lakes, 
forests,  and  prairies,  with  every  form  and  description 
of  flowers,  so  luxuriantly  unfold  the  varied  quali 
ties  of  natural  beauty,  that,  without  the  least  taint  of 
national  vanity,  one  may  speak  of  the  American 


210  BEAUTY. 

people  as  richly  favored  with  the  means  of  this  cul 
tivation.  No  country,  as  a  whole,  surpasses  it.  Nia 
gara  and  Wyoming  are  but  conspicuous  scenes  of 
a  corresponding  whole.  And  the  greatest  wealth 
of  the  new  world  will  never  be  gathered  by  its  inha 
bitants,  till  they  incorporate  into  their  mental  growth 
the  higher  influences  of  the  vast  and  beautiful  nature 
around  them. 

But  no  country  is  destitute  of  means.  Nature 
everywhere  does  much  to  elevate  men.  It  is  the 
absence  of  a  settled  purpose  to  apply  its  means  to 
this  end  that  proves  the  great  evil.  Beauty  is  every 
where  revealing  itself.  It  is  globed  in  the  drop  of 
dew.  The  numberless  worlds  of  the  infinite  space 
are  fashioned  by  its  laws.  It  flows  in  the  waves  of 
light,  radiates  from  the  human  face  divine,  and  spar 
kles  in  the  pathway  of  every  child.  Go  where  you 
will  into  nature,  and  this  smile  of  Divinity  is  upon 
you.  All  things  are  the  throne  and  palace  of  this 
royal  queen  of  earth  and  heaven. 

Human  life,  also,  is  always  revealing  another  kind 
of  beauty.  Before  all  eyes,  there  are  some  noble 
deeds  to  be  admired.  There  are  expressions  of 
generosity,  kindness,  love,  purity,  and  courage,  in 
every  country ;  and  to  hold  a  true  sympathy  with 
these  is  to  enjoy  a  higher  beauty,  the  beauty  of  char 
acter.  Common  life  abounds  in  spiritual  expression. 
Through  this  admiration,  we  rise  in  moral  greatness 
and  excellence.  And  the  practicability  of  rising  into 
the  enjoyment  of  spiritual  beauty  —  a  term  I  here 
use  to  designate  that  beauty  which  springs  from  the 
contemplation  of  mind  as  an  object  —  is  evident  in 


BEAUTY. 


211 


the  general  capacity  of  introspection,  the  ability  of 
turning  the  mind's  eye  in  upon  its  own  best  opera 
tions.  Through  every  soul,  at  times,  some  rays  of 
beauty  pass.  The  clouds  of  error  and  sin  cannot 
wholly  intercept  this  primitive  radiance  in  the  most 
abandoned.  Some  bright  visions,  in  their  dark  path 
ways,  will  be  revived.  In  this  easy  access  to  the 
realm  of  mind  and  nature,  are  the  means  of  a  refined 
joy,  that  may  be  wielded  by  all  persons. 

Beauty  is  a  universal  property.  James  or  Joseph, 
as  a  late  writer  has  said,  may  own  the  landscape ; 
but  the  beauty  and  loveliness  it  reveals  is  as  inuch 
yours  as  his.  No  deeds  can  hold  them.  And  if 
property  could  be  made  of  it,  —  if  it  were  capable  of 
having  a  landlord,  he  would  undoubtedly  be  the 
ideal  man  whose  mind  is  always  alive  to  the  True, 
the  Sacred,  the  Beautiful.  But  it  is  as  free  as  the 
mind  of  its  Author ;  and  we  would  that  the  human 
race,  in  joyful  raptures,  would  open  their  arms  to  its 
embrace  and  say,  "  It  is  ours  /  " 

The  general  aim  of  beauty,  in  its  numberless  forms, 
is  one  ;  and  in  its  importance  we  may  read  the  claims 
of  the  subject.  Its  general  purpose  is  the  refinement 
of  the  soul,  by  which  I  mean  the  calling  into  life  and 
being  of  its  generous  sentiments,  its  love  of  perfec 
tion,  its  gentle  and  disinterested  qualities.  The 
human  spirit  grows  graceful  under  its  influence. 
The  passions  are  softened,  the  moral  sentiments  are 
elevated,  and  coarseness  dies  beneath  its  light.  There 
is  a  sordid  selfishness,  too  common  in  all  countries, 
that  proves  a  foe  to  its  influence.  The  higher  and 
gentler  virtues  cannot  flourish  in  the  gross  atmo- 


212  BEAUTY, 

sphere  of  coarseness ;  and  against  this  barbarous 
tendency  it  is  the  mission  of  beauty  to  strive.  In  an 
ungraceful  universe,  man  would  necessarily  be  a 
graceless  being. 

KosmoSj  the  word  by  which  the  elegant  Greek  dis 
tinguished  the  world  of  nature,  was  not  badly  chosen, 
since  its  principal  meanings  were  order  and  beauty. 
Yes,  the  entire  world  is  this,  from  the  flower  that 
blooms  to  the  star  that  glows ;  nor  would  we  fall 
into  narrower  views  in  our  present  inquiries ;  for 
the  beautiful  is  as  omnipresent  as  God,  is  older  than 
time,  and  boundless  as  space. 

One  consideration  more  should  be  added  to  show 
the  importance  of  this  subject.  Beauty  is  sacred, 
and  its  natural  influence  prompts  worship.  It  is  the 
boundless  radiation  of  God.  For,  as  he  is  the  first 
Being  of  nature,  he  is  its  grand  source  and  centre. 
It  is  a  mysterious  attraction,  sent  out  through  all 
things  to  draw  mankind  to  himself.  It  mingles  with 
the  spiritual  aspirations  of  the  heart,  plays  in  all  its 
buoyant  and  sustaining  hopes,  and  glows  in  the  fire 
that  kindles  the  breast  of  the  prophet.  "  How  amia 
ble  are  thy  tabernacles,  O  God  of  hosts  !  "  —  "  Out 
of  Zion,  the  perfection  of  beauty,  hath  God  shined. "  * 
And  it  was  a  pure  devotion  that  anciently  said,  "  Oh  ! 
worship  the  Lord  in  the  beauty  of  holiness ;  let  the 
whole  earth  stand  in  awe  of  him."  f 

But  I  am  aware  that  the  main  position  of  this  chap 
ter  may  be  opposed  by  an  argument  like  this :  "  Beau 
ty  is  a  superficial  quality.  It  may  please  the  eye,  but 

*  Ps.  1.  2.  t  Ps.  xcvi.  9. 


BEAUTY.  213 

we  are  to  find  support  in  utility.  To  yield  ourselves 
to  its  charms  is  to  become,  in  the  end,  effeminate." 

In  reply  to  this,  I  would  say  that  it  must  be  to 
the  superficial  that  beauty  is  a  superficial  quality, 
and  that  minds  imbibing  the  thought  and  spirit  of 
nature  behold  it  more  as  belonging  to  the  heart  than 
to  the  surface  of  things.  It  is  too  universal  to  be 
spoken  of  lightly.  It  belongs  to  the  whole  soul, 
in  its  serene  deeps,  as  much  and  more  than  to  "  the 
eye."  Its  best  influences  are  in  the  depths  more 
than  over  the  surfaces  of  life. 

It  is  admitted,  that  effeminacy  might  follow  the 
constant  study  of  the  beautiful,  if  it  be  separated 
from  use.  But  in  nature  these  are  not  disjoined. 
The  true  standard  by  which  to  determine  utility  to  a 
human  being  must  be  the  wants  of  his  entire  nature  ; 
in  which  case  it  will  appear,  that  beauty,  being  the 
satisfaction  of  a  real  want,  is  itself  as  truly  useful  as 
are  the  ordinary  means  of  existence.  Use  is  in 
cluded  in  the  absolute  sense  of  this  term  ;  as,  indeed, 
nothing  is  excluded  from  its  dominion. 

But,  admitting  the  relative  distinction  between 
beauty  and  utility,  how  can  the  former  effeminate, 
when  followed  in  our  mental  cultivation  by  a  similar 
balance  of  utility  to  that  which  we  observe  between 
the  two  in  nature  ?  Does  God  aim  at  this  effect  in 
beautifying  so  largely  his  creation  ?  Do  not  the 
mightiest  forces  of  nature  yield  a  high  order  of 
beauty  ?  The  ocean  is  a  sublime  order  of  beauty ; 
but  who  can  speak  of  effeminacy,  when  inspired  by 
its  vast  calmness,  or  its  arousing  might  ?  This  ob 
jection  is  founded,  I  fear,  in  ignorance  of  what 


214  BEAUTY. 

beauty  is,  and  of  the  real  danger  of  the  age.  The 
danger  is,  not  that  society  will  forsake  its  love  of 
dollars,  and  yield  itself  to  the  undue  cultivation 
of  imagination  and  taste,  but  that  multitudes  will 
think  many  times  of  the  dollar,  whilst  few  will  pause 
to  drink  in  the  light  of  beauty  from  the  setting  sun 
or  the  wayside  flowers. 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE  IN  AND  THE  OUT  OF  BEAUTY. 

<4 1  pondered  much  on  that  meeting  of  two  points." 

TRAVELLER. 


In  looking  into  the  philosophy  of  beauty,  many 
difficulties  spring  up  in  the  path  of  the  most  diligent 
and  capable  inquirer.  So,  indeed,  do  difficulties 
become  overwhelming,  when  we  ask  to  know  the 
nature  of  any  one  thing.  All  essence  is  incompre 
hensible  ;  and  the  qualities  and  laws  which  belong 
to  essence  are  not  all  of  them  easily  learned.  In 
denning  qualities  of  matter  or  mind,  there  is  danger 
of  supposing,  that  they  are  denned  when  only  named 
by  words,  and  that  the  use  of  synonymes  furnish 
explanations.  I  apply  this  remark  to  this  subject 
especially,  from  the  fact,  that  no  attribute  of  nature 
more  artfully  evades  the  grasp  of  logic  than  this. 
None  other  is  more  mysterious  ;  and  I  am  inclined 
to  think,  that  the  charm  and  grace  of  this  quality  is 
owing  not  a  little  to  its  undefinablc  mystery.  There 


BEAUTY.  215 

is  a  sort  of  plainness  about  what  we  fully  know,  that 
causes  observation  to  pass  it  by ;  but  in  that  which 
mingles  the  known  and  the  unknown,  the  attention 
fastens  itself  with  power  ;  and  where  all  that  can  be 
clearly  perceived,  and  all  that  merely  gives  us  glim 
merings  of  ideas,  are  in  their  nature  delightful,  their 
mingling  takes  us  captive  by  a  power  we  love  to 
feel,  but  cannot  well  define.  Indeed,  definitions  are 
exceedingly  poor  in  the  presence  of  this  enchanting 
mystery,  which,  though  theories  attempting  its  ex 
planation  outnumber  the  graces  and  muses  com 
bined,  still  seems  to  claim  residence  in  fairy-land, 
rather  than  in  the  logic  dominions  of  close  ana 
lysis. 

But  the  child  is  conscious  of  the  fact.  He  knows 
what  beauty  is,  playing  among  the  daisies.  So  do 
we,  when  we  yield  ourselves  to  nature  fully  and 
freely.  A  certain  distance  is  demanded.  But  when 
we  intrude  our  materialism  upon  it,  when  we  ap 
proach  it  through  the  rough  handling  and  question 
ing  of  our  saucy  logic,  it  seems  gently  to  retreat, 
like  the  ghost  in  Hamlet,  as  if  conscious  of  a  certain 
violence  in  being  thus  arraigned.  It  is  far  better  to 
go  out  into  nature  without  a  theory.  Be  free  as 
the  unbound  universe  about  thee.  Hume,  Alison, 
Walker,  and  Burke,  may  give  us  theories  and  doc 
trines  well  worth  being  studied  ;  but  the  beautiful  in 
art  and  nature  still  stretches  out  beyond  them.  Its 
ever -widening  circles  no  master  measures.  I  would 
not  speak  lightly  of  philosophy  on  this  subject ;  for 
to  all  things  there  is  doubtless  a  proper  philosophy. 
I  only  speak  of  the  folly  involved  in  the  supposition, 


216  BEAUTY. 

that  any  human  theory  has  or  will  make  known  all 
the  mysteries  of  so  vast  a  reality. 

But  there  is  an  inward  and  an  outward  fact  in 
volved  in  all  appreciation  of  the  beautiful,  that  does 
much  to  exhibit  its  sources. 

The  inward  fact  is  first.  Let  me  illustrate.  You 
offer  the  untaught  child  a  fresh  and  blooming  flower. 
We  will  suppose  this  to  be  done  for  the  first  time ; 
or  offer  it  a  picture  displaying  beauty  of  colors. 
At  once  it  exclaims,  "  Beautiful ! "  But  whence 
came  this  spontaneous  verdict  ?  Scores  of  animals, 
skilful  in  their  spheres,  would  have  given  no  sign  of 
delight  amidst  the  miracles  of  the  landscape  and  the 
wonders  of  Raphael.  This  verdict  cannot  be  ac 
counted  for  but  by  an  innate  capacity  of  beauty,  — 
a  latent  sense  of  the  beautiful,  preceding  the  percep 
tion  and  delight  awakened  by  the  external  object. 
The  outward  object  corresponded  to  the  inward 
sense,  and  thereby  had  the  power  of  making  it  ac 
tive.  The  soul,  being  descended  from  the  Supreme 
Beauty,  partakes  of  the  faculties  whence  all  beauty 
sprang,  and  is  therefore  adapted  to  discern  its  radi 
ance  wherever  it  appears.  This  is  the  great  primi 
tive  fact,  without  which  no  excellence  of  visible 
objects  had  ever  impressed  us.  It  is  soul  that  sees, 
hears,  speaks,  feels.  Outward  objects  can  only  call 
into  action  what  the  mind  originally  has.  Philoso 
phy  has  indeed  said,  "  The  soul  creates  the  beauty  it 
beholds,"  —  a  statement  which  allows  nothing  for 
the  outward  fact,  whilst  to  others  the  outward  fact  is 
every  thing.  But,  in  the  compromise  of  these  ex 
tremes,  in  the  union  of  mind  and  surrounding  nature, 


BEAUTY.  217 

you  have  the  true  mean.  No  sane  mind,  not  even 
in  highest  rhapsody,  believes  that  Niagara  and  the 
Alps  wear  a  beauty  by  itself  created,  —  that  visible 
scenes  are  not  developing  causes ;  and  none  can 
well  deny,  that  a  nature  containing  the  seminal 
principles  from  which  the  beautiful  springs  is  alone 
capable  of  admiring  its  manifold  revelations.  The 
contradictory  blindness  which  ascribes  all  mental 
manifestation  to  an  arbitrary  education  is  worthy  of 
little  patience.  It  cannot  see  what  the  various  issues 
it  contemplates  imply  as  their  source.  Whoever 
notes  the  spontaneous  emotions  of  delight  that  spring 
up  in  view  of  certain  objects,  or  regards  the  same  in 
children  who  are  left  to  the  free  action  of  their  own 
preference,  will  see  that,  back  of  all  education,  there 
lies  this  interior  sense,  without  which  there  would 
be  nothing  to  educate  in  reference  to  this  matter. 
Moreover,  there  are  laws  which  determine  human 
education  on  this  subject  in  the  mind  itself;  so  that 
the  uniformity  of  ideas,  so  far  as  they  exist,  is  owing 
to  them.  The  sun  and  stars  are  in  all  climes  beauti 
ful,  not  because  education  first  affirmed  it,  but  be 
cause  the  soul,  in  its  precedency  of  all  theory,  so 
affirmed,  and  so  affirms. 

To  this  inward  source  of  beauty  all  nature  and 
art  at  once  refer  us.  For  nature,  as  the  creation 
of  God,  can  only  display  Avhat  before  existed  in 
the  Creative  Mind.  All  the  beauty  that  ever  will 
be  found  in  the  universe  was  first  in  the  idea 
of  its  glorious  Architect,  and  afterwards  embodied 
into  this  boundless  array  of  worlds,  and  the  varie 
ties  of  lesser  things  they  contain.  Therefore  we 
19 


218  BEAUTY. 

ought  not  to  rest  in  the  mere  perception  of  beauty 
in  sensuous  objects.  As  the  radiance  of  God,  it 
should  suggest  the  perfection  and  presence  of  the 
heavenly  Artist.  And  to  us  there  appears  to  be 
a  deeper  joy  in  this  contemplation  of  nature,  as 
being  divine  Idea  taking  form,  than  in  those  which 
never  behold  it  as  the  tranquil  mirror  of  a  Pa 
rental  Mind.  Art,  in  every  age,  is  representative 
of  human  aspiration  and  idea.  What  can  you  find 
in  the  glories  of  the  Pantheon,  in  the  grandeur  of 
ancient  ruins,  in  the  captivating  marvels  of  Ra 
phael  and  Michael  Angelo,  that  did  not  first  exist  as 
perfect  and  as  real  in  the  idea  of  the  several  con 
structive  geniuses,  as  they  do  when  enshrined  in  the 
visible  art  ?  Certainly,  it  lies  not  in  the  gift  of 
any  being  to  perform  an  act  which  shall  be  more 
perfect  than  the  conception  it  fulfils.  No  being, 
human  or  divine,  can  go  beyond  this  limit  to  his 
poAver  ;  and  it  is  characteristic  of  the  best  human 
effort  to  fall  below  the  mind's  ideal.  Yet  do  not 
many  half-believe  that  the  outward  fact  is  the  only 
reality  ? 

But  let  us  view  this  theme  subjectively.  Nature 
strikes  us  under  the  two  aspects  of  beauty  and  de 
formity.  Its  scenes,  addressing  the  senses,  com 
municate  to  the  mind  its  first  rude  thought  of 
beauty.  And  what  is  most  remarkable  is  the  power 
the  mind  has  to  seize  this  primitive  idea,  and  to 
heighten  it  above  the  original  scenes  that  first  sug 
gested  it.  You  can  imagine  a  sublimer  mountain, 
a  more  beautiful  cloud,  than  you  have  ever  seen. 
There  is  a  power  within  you  to  rise  above  nature 


BEAUTY.  219 

itself,  to  idealize  a  beauty  surpassing  the  rude  scene. 
Hence  art  may,  in  its  sphere,  excel  external  na 
ture  ;  that  is  to  say,  it  may  give  many  intimations 
of  a  perfection  beyond  it.  I  say  not,  that  art,  seek 
ing  to  supply  the  place  of  nature,  could  equal  it ;  as 
a  forest  of  Ionic  columns,  in  stately  and  ornamental 
grandeur,  might  surpass  the  trunks  and  bodies  of 
trees  in  proportion  and  ornament ;  yet,  from  its  fail 
ure  to  answer  the  ends  for  which  the  forest  exists, 
the  absence  of  life,  and  its  correspondence  with  the 
rest  of  nature,  would  render  it  out  of  place.  A 
cloud  to  which  we  might  transfer  all  the  colors  of 
the  rainbow,  at  first  would  strike  us  as  more  beautiful 
than  all  other  clouds  ;  yet  its  want  of  correspondence 
with  other  parts  of  the  natural  system  would  mar 
and  not  enhance  the  beauty  of  the  skies.  It  is  only 
when  art  keeps  within  its  proper  sphere  that  it  can 
join  with  other  evidences  in  support  of  the  doctrine 
advanced,  that  the  mind  can  improve  on  the  scenes 
that  originally  make  the  first  revelations  of  beauty. 

Each  one  sees  nature  through  his  particular  men 
tal  state.  This  fact  varies  the  beautiful  after  the 
endless  variety  of  minds  and  mental  conditions. 
Who  can  represent  the  moods  of  a  single  mind  for 
one  month  or  a  year  ?  They  vary  like  the  skies. 
No  two  have  precisely  the  same  association  of  ideas, 
no  two  the  same  mental  states,  and  no  two  ever 
witness  exactly  the  same  beauty.  From  each  mind, 
different  hues  are  shed.  From  each  scene,  a  differ 
ent  language  is  spoken.  Each,  looking  out  through 
his  particular  feelings,  education,  and  habits  of  life, 
is  like  an  observer  in  the  dome  of  a  Turkish  castle, 


220  BEAUTY. 

looking  out  through  a  score  of  differently  painted 
glasses  upon  city,  field,  and  forest.  If  he  looks 
through  vermilion,  all  the  world  he  can  see  is  ver 
milion.  If  he  looks  through  green  and  blue,  then 
all  is  green  and  all  is  blue.  So  each  man  looks  out 
through  his  moods  and  states. 

The  mind  has  endless  varieties :  so  has  nature 
without.  Hence  arise,  in  different  countries,  various 
standards  of  beauty.  The  modem  Persian  hates 
red  hair,  whilst  the  Turk  enthusiastically  admires  it. 
In  China,  young  ladies  pluck  their  eyebrows  to  make 
them  thin  and  long.  The  ladies  of  Japan  gild  their 
teeth,  whilst  those  of  India  paint  them  red.  In  some 
countries,  mothers  break  the  noses  of  their  children, 
and  in  others  press  their  heads  between  boards  ;  thus 
torturing  nature  into  their  idea  of  the  beautiful.  The 
straight  nose  of  the  Greek  had  as  many  admirers  as 
the  Roman  aqueline  curve,  though  in  ancient  Persia 
this  latter  feature  often  indicated  its  possessor  as 
worthy  of  the  crown.  Thus  vary  the  criteria  for 
determining  the  bcauliful  in  all  countries,  though 
there  is  far  greater  uniformity  in  the  interpretation 
of  it  from  the  visible  world ;  since  flowers,  oceans, 
mountains,  stars,  speak  a  similar  language  to  all 
nations,  varying  mostly  through  different  degrees  of 
intellect.  The  various  standards  express  the  degree 
of  advancement  to  which  a  people  has  arrived. 

The  association  of  ideas  —  which,  like  a  band  of 
angels,  accompanies  us  wherever  we  go  —  takes 
hold  of  the  two  sources  I  have  named.  How  va 
rious  and  subtle  are  these  mental  associations  !  No 
man,  perhaps,  can  thoroughly  analyze  all  their 


BEAUTY.  221 

causes.  A  scene,  through  similitude,  and  perhaps 
through  contrast,  with  thoughts  and  impressions  the 
mind  has  from  former  experience,  may  awaken 
images  and  ideas  for  which  no  analysis  can  account. 
Two  streams  meet.  The  current  of  past  experience 
and  impression  goes  to  determine  the  association  of 
ideas  that  each  person  has,  whilst  an  influence  from 
the  object  or  objects  beheld  meets  this,  and  aids  the 
creation  of  the  mental  association  through  which 
the  scene  is  to  yield  its  highest  delight.  The  tree,  the 
rock,  and  the  rose,  will  not  allow  you  the  same  com 
bination.  Each  thing  must  speak  to  you  its  own 
language  ;  and,  as  there  is  an  endless  variety  to 
things  and  to  individual  minds,  the  range  of  associa 
tion  seems  to  be  unbounded. 

But  the  outward  fact  goes  much  further.  Its 
pOAver  in  forming  the  association  has  been  merely 
stated  as  a  fact.  But  the  relations  of  the  various 
external  beauties  to  each  other,  or  the  infinite  variety 
and  contrast  through  which  the  beautiful  appears, 
do  much  not  only  to  promote  a  similar  variety  in  the 
spiritual  beauty  which  the  mind,  in  its  variety  of 
faculties,  and  under  its  diversity  of  circumstances, 
may  constantly  unfold,  but  they  go  far  to  create 
DEFINITE  conceptions.  The  spirit  of  nature  contrives 
that  each  object  shall  wear  a  hue  of  beauty  peculiar 
to  itself.  One  star  differs  from  another  in  glory ;  so 
of  each  mute  and  living  thing.  And  this  infinitude  of 
contrast  not  only  enriches  but  sharpens  the  apprecia 
tive  power  of  every  observer. 

To  the  same  end,  and  perhaps  still  more  strongly, 
does  the  contrast  of  beauty  and  deformity  univer- 

19* 


222  BEAUTY. 

sally  tend.  There  are,  indeed,  two  points  of  view 
from  which  all  objects  in  nature  may  be  contem 
plated.  First,  we  examine  an  object  as  a  unit,  as  a 
thing  by  itself;  and,  second,  as  a  part  of  the  uni 
versal  whole,  which  we  can  imagine,  but  cannot 
know.  Perhaps  a  third  relation  is  as  important  as 
these  two,  which  is  the  contemplation  of  objects  with 
reference  to  that  particular  whole  of  nature  coming 
within  the  kingdom  of  the  senses.  We  instinctively 
affirm  beauty  in  positive,  comparative,  and  super 
lative  degrees  of  certain  things  we  see,  and  deformity 
of  certain  other  things,  though,  in  the  contempla 
tion  of  these  in  their  relation  to  the  grand  whole,  it 
may  be  plausibly  supposed  that  they  are  necessary 
parts  of  one  Infinite  Beauty.  Deformity,  as  we  term 
it,  in  the  great  drama  of  nature,  is  much  like  Ther- 
sites  in  the  play,  "  Troilus  and  Cressida."  He  is  an 
ill-formed,  scurrilous  Greek,  when  viewed  by  him 
self  ;  but,  viewed  in  his  relation  to  the  whole  play, 
he  is  an  indispensable  part  of  its  interest  and  beauty. 
Whilst,  therefore,  as  a  whole,  the  universe  enshrines 
the  Infinite  Beauty,  there  is  a  practical  sense  in  which 
beauty  and  deformity  are  so  blended  in  the  details 
of  nature  as  to  invigorate  our  appreciative  sense,  by 
the  sharpening  power  of  contrast.  But,  through 
whatever  channel  speculation  may  flow,  there  is  ever 
a  meeting  of  the  two  facts,  soul  and  nature,  —  the 
fact  without,  and  the  fact  within ;  which,  like  the  cor 
respondence  of  thirst  and  water,  eye  and  light,  co 
exist  in  harmony  for  eve.r. 


BEAUTY. 


CHAPTER  III. 


CONDITIONS    AND    ELEMENTS. 


223 


It  not  being  the  province  of  philosophy  proper  to 
make  known  the  essence  of  any  one  thing,  and  hav 
ing  already  spoken  of  beauty  as  finding  no  permanent 
home  in  any  theory  we  have,  or  in  any  we  may 
expect,  I  cannot  consistently  attempt  to  tell  what 
beauty  is.  Words  cannot  explain  it ;  and  logic,  in  its 
pursuit,  is  much  like  the  captivated  child  bending  its 
way  to  the  rainbow.  But  all  things  have  conditions 
and  laws ;  and  to  point  out  some  of  these,  on  the 
present  subject,  is  perhaps  the  most  that  can  be 
done.  Beauty  itself  is  too  divine  to  be  held  by  phi 
losophical  creeds ;  and  perhaps  the  great  error  of  its 
expounders  has  been  contraction  of  views,  a  making 
one  species  of  beauty  the  theory  for  all.  It  has  not 
been  sufficiently  remembered  that  beauty  is  like 
Proteus,  taking  all  forms,  with  nature  unchanged. 
Plato,  in  his  two  dialogues,  very  wisely  attempted 
no  analysis.  Cicero  gives  us  a  good  opinion  of  his 
wisdom  in  being  equally  indefinite. 

But,  among  the  circumstances  of  beauty,  perhaps 
proportion  and  symmetry  of  parts  have  more  than 
any  other  obtained  the  reputation  of  being  a  law,  or 
the  law.  It  is  very  certain  that  the  beautiful  often 
assumes  this  form.  Each  drop  of  rain  is  a  globe,  a 
well-proportioned  unit.  The  earth,  sun,  and  stars, 
are  fashioned  to  this  law.  Plants  and  animals  quite 


BEAUTY. 


generally  express  it.  In  the  human  form,  it  holds 
decisive  empire  over  all  that  is  graceful.  But  this 
law  is  no  boundary ;  for  the  swan,  whose  neck  is  out 
of  all  proportion  to  its  body,  is  the  most  beautiful  of 
birds.  The  tail  of  the  peacock  is  longer  than  its 
neck  and  body  combined.  Behold  many  small  blos 
soms  on  large  trees,  and  large  flowers  on  slender 
stalks  !  View  the  wild  and  broken  scenery  of  rocks 
and  mountains,  romantically  beautiful  to  all  observ 
ers,  and  you  will  see  that  proportion  is  but  one 
of  the  garments  in  which  beauty  is  sometimes  at 
tired. 

Regularity,  order,  transmit  to  us  many  of  its  rays. 
In  the  shells  of  the  sea,  in  the  many  animal  struc 
tures,  and  in  the  constellated  flowers  that  garnish 
these  upper  fields  of  space,  the  beautiful  takes  order 
as  its  queenly  dress.  From  the  central  palace  to  the 
most  distant  circumference  of  the  Creator's  work,  is 
the  reign  of  order,  —  order  in  its  widest  sense,  inclu 
ding  the  rage  of  elements  that  seem  to  set  it  at  bold 

O  O 

defiance.  A  single  leaf  —  it  is  a  miracle  of  refined 
structure,  a  marvel  of  delicate  regularity.  Much  of 
the  delight  we  receive  in  the  study  of  any  portion 
of  nature  is  the  perfect  order  there  revealed ;  for  the 
soul  ever  seeks  to  realize  this  idea  in  the  arrange 
ment  of  affairs,  in  the  systematizing  of  its  thoughts, 
and  in  the  fulfilment  of  its  loftiest  hopes.  But  it  will 
not  permit  order  to  become  a  bondage,  and  delights 
in  its  seeming  ruptures  when  a  great  force  is  display 
ed.  The  whirlwind,  wheeling  off  with  leaves  and 
flowers ;  the  cataract,  with  its  dashing  currents  and 
foaming  spray  ;  and  the  wild  coursing  storm,  yield  a 


BEAUTY.  225 

beauty  touchingly  welcome  to  the  heart.  Ruins, 
scattered  along  in  melancholy  grandeur,  are  often 
more  deeply  eloquent  than  the  sculptured  column 
and  the  fretted  aisle  of  the  most  magnificent  temple. 
Delicacy  is  one  of  beauty's  forms.  In  the  number 
less  flowers  of  spring,  in  the  foliage  of  the  deep  and 
shading  forest,  and  in  the  loveliness  of  the  gentler 
sex,  it  would  seem  that  the  spirit  of  beauty  had 
chosen  this  as  its  favorite  expression.  Its  speech  is 
gently  powerful  to  the  mightiest  minds.  Beauty,  in 
its  mild  and  tender  forms,  yields  probably  the  sweet 
est  delight ;  and  so  much  of  its  genius  seems  to  find 
expression  in  these,  that  Burke  well  nigh  founded 
his  theory  upon  them.  A  delicate  frame  is  his  fifth 
condition,  and  comparative  smallness  is  his  first 
quality  of  beauty.  There  is  a  silent  hovering  of 
thought  I  cannot  well  describe,  at  the  sight  of  frail 
and  delicate  forms  of  loveliness,  that  seems  to  place 
us  in  sympathy  with  all  the  innocent  helplessness 
and  trusting  simplicity  Ave  meet  in  human  life.  There 
is  that  in  the  association  they  suggest  that  even 
moves  a  pensive,  generous  feeling  toward  the  pure 
and  less  powerful  of  our  kind.  We  love  these  deli 
cate  hues,  whether  in  the  golden  tints  of  the  cloud, 
when  the  sun  goes  down,  or  in  the  colors  that  beau 
tify  the  many  leaves  and  flowers.  Whatever  the 
forms,  we  love  these  delicate  hues  of  nature  as  the 
movers  of  the  sweet  and  gentler  concords  of  our  in 
ward  harmony.  But  so  far  are  these  forms  of 
beauty  from  being  sufficient  data  for  a  system,  that 
all  the  vast  and  sweeping  forces  of  nature,  with 
which  they  contrast,  are  even  more  beautiful. 


226  BEAUTY. 

There  is  indeed  a  blending  of  SIMPLICITY  and 
MAJESTY  in  the  operation  of  natural  forces  and  in 
natural  scenes  that  produces  beauty.  We  are  con 
scious  of  this  when  we  witness  the  rising  of  the  sun, 
still  more  perhaps  when  a  gorgeous  sunset  displays 
the  increased  magnitude  and  splendor  of  his  form, 
baptizing  hills  and  clouds  in  the  golden  radiance  of 
his  own  celestial  fire.  The  starry  heaven  looking 
down  through  the  countless  eyes  of  unclouded  night, 
the  flow  of  widening  rivers  to  their  respective  seas,  the 
ceaseless  rollings  of  the  seasons,  the  action  of  the 
great  law  of  decay  and  of  life  over  the  noblest 
parts  of  terrestrial  nature,  and  the  easy,  sublime  mo 
tions  of  the  solar  worlds  through  space,  present  to 
our  imagination  the  mystic  union  of  these  two  quali 
ties.  Likewise  do  they  blend  in  the  greatness  of  all 
superior  minds. 

Fitness,  so  far  from  belonging  to  a  sordid  utility, 
is  one  of  the  great  circumstances  of  beauty.  Utility, 
as  perfectly  answered  by  the  adaptations  of  nature  , 
and  art,  comes  within  the  circle  of  beauty.  Things 
answer  to  ends.  Columns  in  a  stately  temple,  dif 
ferent  limbs  and  organs  of  the  human  system,  har 
vests  waving  in  the  wind,  and  even  the  fountains, 
the  woodland  bowers,  and  the  light  that  fills  the  air 
and  skies,  suggest  this  answering  of  means  to  ends. 
Nature's  kingdom  is  very  much  a  kingdom  of  uses ; 
and,  could  we  see  as  in  a  glance  all  the  ends  and 
wants  to  which  it  ministers,  I  am  not  sure  that  utility 
would  not  fail  to  include  its  whole  domain.  Use 
can  easily  be  widened  to  infinity :  so  can  beauty. 
But,  in  the  relative  speech  that  distinguishes  the  two, 


BEAUTY.  227 

it  may  be  said  that,  throughout  nature,  beauty  and 
utility  are  twin  sisters,  walking  always  hand  in 
hand. 

But  she  charms  us  often  through  the  dualism  and 
the  sameness  of  uniformity.  "  Our  limbs  and  organs 
serve  us  in  pairs."  *  The  two  hands,  feet,  eyes,  ears, 
however  much  the  same,  are  more  beautiful  than  if 
each  of  the  two  varied  in  color,  size,  and  form.  The 
animal  of  one  eye  or  leg,  could  it  be  found,  would 
shock  us,  not  only  because  the  education  of  the 
senses  is  against  it,  but  because  the  idea  of  utility 
and  correspondence  of  parts  would  be  violated. 
There  is  a  dual  uniformity  in  animal  structures, 
ministering  alike  to  what  is  beautiful  and  useful. 
The  nerves  and  muscles  are  extended  in  pairs.  The 
brain,  with  its  two  hemispheres ;  the  earth,  in  two 
continents  ;  the  heavens,  or  the  space  above,  rounded 
to  the  eye,  meeting  an  opposite  space  (which,  though 
by  us  unseen,  is  its  perfect  counterpart)  ;  the  poles ; 
the  "  up  and  down ; "  the  for  and  against  of  every 
subject,  exhibit  this  uniformity  as  the  minister  of 
beauty  and  use.  This,  however,  is  but  one  of  the 
Proteus-forms  which  beauty  assumes. 

Add  to  these,  unity  and  variety.  Nature  is  a 
unit.  So  is  each  race  it  contains :  so  is  each  indi 
vidual  of  each  race.  But  the  grand  unity  of  being 
spreads  out  into  infinite  variety.  It  is  one  of  the 
great  and  bright  evidences  of  One  Supreme  Causer, 
that,  through  the  infinite  range  of  variety,  such  laws 
and  relations  subsist  as  unite  the  whole  into  system  ; 


Knight. 


228  BEAUTY. 

thereby  teaching  the  unity  of  the  Creative  Mind. 
Man,  fashioned  in  the  likeness  of  the  world  in  which 
he  is  placed,  in  the  wonderful  variety  of  his  gifts,  and 
in  the  perfect  unity  of  his  nature,  appears  to  sum  up 
every  material  and  spiritual  law  known  and  un 
known,  so  that  the  universe  but  represents  him ; 
whence  it  is  that  monotony  offends,  whilst  the  "  va 
riety  in  unity  and  the  unity  in  variety"  delight  him. 
Variety  alone  would  prove  as  a  wilderness  of  so 
many  paths,  that  the  traveller  is  lost ;  it  would  so 
distract  as  to  become  a  universal  confusion,  whilst  it 
could  not  possibly  contribute  to  the  growth  of  mind, 
since  this  implies  that  varieties  contribute  to  one  end  ; 
that  is  to  say,  they  are  pervaded  by  unity,  which  is 
the  only  possibility  of  such  contribution.  In  the 
midst  of  boundless  variety,  unity  is  the  self-recover 
ing  principle.  Through  it  we  regain  our  way,  find 
support  and  poAver  in  its  connection,  and  become 
able  to  bring  all  impressions,  all  means,  into  one  end, 
the  improving  and  perfecting  of  the  soul,  or  into 
various  particular  purposes. 

What  charming  varieties  are  woven  into  the  struc 
ture  of  flowers  and  other  vegetable  forms  !  What 
variety  in  the  mysteries  of  color  and  of  sound  ! 
What  numbers  of  bending  lines  and  contrasts  appear 
in  the  structures  of  the  feathery  throng,  and  of  the 
many  races  of  walking  animals  !  And,  in  the  human 
species,  the  charm  of  variety  has  ministers,  not  only 
in  the  many  bending,  waving  lines  of  beauty  reign 
ing  in  their  forms,  but  in  the  diversity  of  mental 
expression,  and  even  in  shades  of  the  skin.  Hogarth 
thought  that,  in  beauty,  variety  is  the  principal  char- 


BEAUTY.  229 

acteristic.  This  may  be  so.  But  were  there  only 
one  violet  on  earth,  and  only  one  star  in  the  skies, 
that  violet  and  that  star  were  most  beautiful,  though 
the  variety  of  an  extensive  contrast  were  wholly 
withdrawn. 

Beauty  is  also  fond  of  departing  from  the  direct 
line  into  curves  and  circles.  The  straight  line,  long 
continued,  delights  not  the  senses,  whilst  the  grace 
ful  deviations  win  our  admiration.*  Nature  seems 
to  compromise  straight  lines,  angles,  and  circles,  in 
her  noblest  productions.  She  sends  up  the  tree  and 
the  plant  in  a  direct  line,  whilst  she  rounds  the  body 
and  the  branches,  tapering  both,  that  her  stops  and 
pauses  be  not  abrupt.  In  the  animal  organization, 
the  body  and  limbs  exhibit  the  various  combination 
of  the  angle,  the  circle,  and  the  bending  line.  "  The 
eye  is  a  circle."  The  head  tends  to  a  sphere.  The 
arms,  legs,  and  fingers,  are,  when  you  please,  nearly 
straight  lines ;  also  they  are  right  angles  and  curves. 
The  worlds  are  circles :  they  also  move  in  circles. 
The  waving,  serpentine  line,  as  exhibited  in  shells 
and  flowers,  and  in  the  ornamental  furniture  of  our 
dwellings,  Hogarth  calls  the  line  of  beauty,  which,  in 
the  infancy  of  plants  and  animals,  appears  to  prevail, 
but  gradually  gives  way  to  straight  lines  and  angles, 
as  power  is  developed.  But  the  all-beautiful  hath 
need  of  angles  as  much  as  of  spirals  and  curves. 

*  Of  course,  this  view  is  to  be  but  partially  applied ;  for  paral 
lels  are  beautiful  as  curves,  when  answering  to  important  ends. 
The  long  straight  line,  as  exhibited  in  a  well-formed  railway,  in 
the  road  extending  many  miles  on  even  ground,  and  in  many 
other  instances,  is  far  more  pleasing  than  curves. 
20 


230  BEAUTY. 

The  straight  grasses,  "  the  knotted  and  angular  stem 
of  the  balsam,"  tell  Hogarth  and  the  curve  not  to 
boast.  Indeed,  what  geometry  can  measure  this 
subject,  or  catch  so  shy  and  beautiful  a  ghost  ? 
"  Day  is  day,  and  night  is  night ;  "  but  what  more, 
deponent  saith  not. 

When  one  stands  amidst  the  sweet  and  delicate 
beauties  of  spring,  or  beholds  the  small  and  grace 
ful  form  of  her  whose  manner  and  movement  are 
more  free  and  beautiful  than  those  of  larger  persons, 
he  is  reminded  of  a  depth  of  wisdom  in  Burke,  who 
insists  on  comparative  smallness  as  the  first  quality 
in  beauty.  But  when  among  rocks,  over  which  the 
furious  torrent  dashes ;  when  the  beetling  cliffs  and 
the  long  stretch  of  mountain  grandeur  rivet  the 
attention,  and  waken  a  deep  and  profound  delight; 
when  the  storm  wails  loud,  and  the  lightning  plays 
so  bravely  among  his  vast,  dark  shading  clouds, 
rocking  the  hills,  and  giving  a  tongue  to  every 
mountain,  —  then  is  he  sure  that  nature  is  wiser  than 
Burke,  when  she  tells  him  that  sublimity  is  a  higher 
order  of  beauty  than  ever  gleamed  from  diminutive 
forms  ;  that  it,  more  than  any  other,  wakens  the 
action  of  the  whole  soul.  The  "pretty"  is  perhaps 
its  lowest  form,  and  sublimity  its  highest. 

Nothing  advances  beyond  the  sublime.  In  the 
hour  of  inspiration  coming  from  the  contemplation 
of  many  sublime  scenes  over  which  the  veil  of  love 
liness  is  sometimes  flung,  the  heart  deeply  responds 
to  this  sentiment.  There  is  a  feeling  of  the  vast 
and  the  infinite,  that  at  times  stirs  in  the  human 
breast ;  and  the  vast  forms  of  nature  we  call  sublime 


BEAUTY.  231 

seem  to  step  as  it  were  from  the  finite  on  to  the 
infinite  ;  —  not  the  infinite  precisely,  but  still  it  is  a 
step  so  far  that  it  wakens  the  sense  and  suggests 
the  idea  of  infinity.  By  this  the  mind  is  upborne. 
It  freely  expands  under  its  influence,  and  grows  con 
scious  of  its  real,  latent  might.  In  this  there  is  a 
profound  pleasure,  a  perception  and  sense  of  beauty 
that  elevates  the  whole  mind.  It  is  here  that  the 
beautiful  takes  the  greatest  energy,  —  an  energy 
mild,  deep,  subduing.  Genius  has  seen  higher  beau 
ties  among  mountain  and  storms,  than  among  the 
smiles  of  the  merely  pretty  in  nature  and  art.  I 
would  therefore  embrace  the  sublime  in  my  idea  of 
the  beautiful.  The  Alps  and  the  rose  are  equally 
needed.  Manfred  best  publishes  our  creed  in  his 
rapturous  utterance  —  "  Beautiful ! " 

"  How  beautiful  is  all  this  visible  world ! 
How  glorious  in  its  action  and  itself!  " 

Beauty,  then,  in  our  philosophy,  belongs  to  no  one 
form  or  law.  We  cannot  wholly  refer  it  to  organi 
zation.  God  is  not  measured  by  creeds,  nor  beauty 
by  theories.  We  go  into  nature  free.  We  forget 
all  systems,  when  charmed  or  moved.  But  in  every 
scene  and  personal  form,  the  Je  ne  sais  quoi,  the 
I  don't  know  what  of  the  matter,  is  always  the  rich 
est  part  of  the  beautiful ;  and  appreciative  power 
will  always  be  so  far  relative,  that  the  owl  shall  be 
most  beautiful  to  the  owl,  the  sparrow  to  the  spar 
row,  the  human  to  the  human.  Proteus,  in  all  his 
forms,  is  Proteus  still. 


232  BEAUTY. 


CHAPTER  IV. 


THE    MISSION    OF    BEAUTY. 


Beauty  makes  matter  more  spiritual.  Under  its 
rays,  the  material  comes  into  nearer  sympathy  and 
relation  with  mind.  This  I  conceive  to  be  a  grand 
part  of  the  mission  of  beauty  in  the  natural  world. 
It  seems  to  render  matter  more  spirit-like.  The 
soul,  under  the  influences  of  beautiless  orbs  and 
forms  of  matter,  would  not  only  be  depressed  in  its 
higher  and  purer  aspirations,  but  would  find  the 
incongeniality  between  itself  and  the  world  of  things 
extremely  oppressive.  As  a  happy  mediation,  there 
fore,  between  matter  and  spirit,  the  mantle  of  beauty 
is  flung  over  the  visible  world.  Nature  must  wear 
spiritual  hues,  it  must  be  adapted  to  mind,  or  it  never 
can  fulfil  the  office  of  a  developing  ministry  to  its 
powers. 

But  natural  beauty,  in  all  its  laws,  forms,  and 
conditions,  is  representative  of  mind.  The  soul  is 
mirrored  in  all  its  nobler  attributes.  I  hold  a  frac 
tion  of  esteem  for  the  obscure  author  who  supposed 
the  universe  to  be  a  vast  man ;  for  man  everywhere 
beholds  himself  represented  in  its  forms.  Nature 
shadows  the  spirit.  Sublimity  of  thought,  purpose, 
and  passion  is  glassed  in  the  grandeur  of  moun 
tains,  oceans,  and  storms.  Firmness  sees  its  image 
in  the  inflexibility  of  law.  Gentleness  beholds  itself 
in  the  flow  of  rivers.  Affection  gives  language  to 


BEAUTY.  233 

myriad  flowers,  and  finds  a  symbol  in  the  power  that 
binds  the  parts  of  the  universe  together.  Sorrow 
and  sadness  seem  to  speak  in  the  plaintive-voiced 
winds.  Peace  beholds  her  likeness  in  the  quiet  of 
earth  and  the  tranquillity  of  skies.  Wisdom  sees 
herself  in  the  all-pervading  light.  Trueness  speaks 
through  every  law  and  agency  of  God  around  us. 
The  whole  soul  is  represented.  Nature  material  is 
from  the  Perfect  Mind  :  it  therefore  represents  it. 
And  the  more  noble  and  perfect  the  mind  human 
becomes,  the  more  does  it  behold  its  own  attributes 
reflected  in  the  visible  world,  since  the  condition  of  its 
faculties  more  resembles  the  Fountain  in  which  the 
external  creation  had  its  origin.  Man  loves  himself ; 
and  it  is  a  contribution  to  his  happiness  to  behold  so 
glorious  a  universe  as  the  expression  of  spiritual 
pOAvers  and  tendencies  in  himself,  which  are  of  more 
worth  than  it. 

Still  more  is  natural  beauty  the  stepping-stone  to 
spiritual  beauty.  We  ascend  from  the  lower  to  the 
superior  order.  The  numberless  analogies  connect 
ing  matter  and  mind  permit  this,  the  seen  always 
pointing  the  way  to  the  unseen.  For  every  law, 
condition,  and  circumstance  of  beauty  natural,  there 
is  a  kindred  law,  condition,  and  circumstance  in- 
beauty  spiritual.  When  we  enter  the  domain  of 
beautiful  thought,  passion,  deed,  sentiment,  charac 
ter,  we  find  the  whole  variety,  —  delicacy,  propor 
tion,  unity,  sublimity,  &c.  —  that  strike  us  in  the 
range  of  the  senses.  All  spiritual  beauty  and  de 
formity  being  represented  in  the  domain  of  visibility, 
we  are  prepared  to  perceive  the  beauty  of  character 

20* 


234  BEAUTY. 

as  revealed  in  Washington,  Howard,  and  Fenelon. 
True,  we  use  these  qualifying  impressions  of  early 
nature  unconsciously,  as  we  do  our  previous  know 
ledge  of  distance  and  size  in  the  common  habits  of 
vision.  Indeed,  I  doubt  whether  mankind,  or  any 
portion  of  them,  had  ever  been  capable  of  enjoying 
the  beauty  of  character,  but  for  the  previous  impres 
sions  of  beauty  natural. 

Kindred  to  this  is  the  fact,  that  the  various  forms 
of  natural  beauty  kindle  and  inspire  the  orator,  the 
poet,  and  the  prophet.  It  is  the  soul  that  speaks ; 
and  in  every  sublime  and  kindling  utterance  there  is 
a  deep  indebtedness  to  the  impressions  and  symbols 
of  natural  beauty.  The  prophet  must  have  his  sym 
bols.  The  poet  also,  who  is  very  much  a  priest  of 
nature  and  life,  bows  at  the  altars  of  beauty,  and 
adores  the  perfect.  Here  he  is  inspired.  He  takes 
illustrations,  various  as  the  varying  shades  of  thought. 
The  various  beauty  of  the  soul,  the  deep  and  touch 
ing  eloquence  of  passion,  flow  into  every  inspired 
discourse.  As  means  to  an  end,  we  here  behold  the 
mission  of  beauty.  We  read  it  in  Pericles,  David, 
and  Shakspeare.  It  may  also  be  safely  said,  that, 
were  beauty  and  its  inspirations  wholly  to  cease,  the 
speech  of  the  poet,  the  orator,  and  the  prophet,  would 
probably  become  as  dry  as  the  drifting  sand  of  the 
desert. 

Beauty  in  nature  is  favorable  also  to  the  progress 
of  science.  It  is  intellectual.  For  the  Creator,  in 
scattering  its  gems  throughout  the  creation,  attracts 
and  invites  mankind  to  study  his  works.  A  luxury, 
a  pleasure,  mingles  with  and  lightens  the  toil  of 


BEAUTY. 


235 


research.  We  feel  a  greater  interest  in  the  uni 
verse,  because  we  love  the  beauty  and  order  it 
everywhere  unfolds.  I  have  elsewhere  spoken  of  its 
softening,  melting  pOAver  in  attuning  the  heart  of 
worship.  Its  sweet  influences  are  designed  to  be 
one  with  goodness ;  for  often  has  it  woke  in  sa 
vage  breasts  the  gentler  spirit  of  love,  giving  to  the 
darkly  vicious  an  hour  of  recovery  to  their  nobler 
selves. 

But  beauty  is  a  bond  of  union  between  the  sexes. 
For  this  its  bloom  appears  in  the  form  and  counte 
nance  of  youth.  The  genius  of  nature  contrives  to 
hang  out  attractive  signs,  which  serve  to  draw  con 
genial  souls  together ;  so  that  true  marriage,  which 
is  nature's  arithmetic,  adds  together  the  two  balan 
cing  fractions  of  humanity,  —  man  and  woman  ; 
leaving  the  more  blissful  unit,  of  which  they  were 
parts.  This  order  of  beauty,  under  correct  moral 
sentiment,  inspires  what  is  best  and  noblest  in  men. 
The  age  of  chivalry,  indeed,  was  but  the  triumph  of 
woman's  charms  over  the  coarseness  of  the  times. 

This  subject  should  not  be  dismissed,  without  re 
minding  the  reader,  that  one  of  the  holiest  aims  in 
the  mission  of  beauty  is  to  awaken  disinterested  feel 
ing.  This  is  a  glorious  office.  We  are  raised  above 
our  selfish  views  and  moods,  we  grow  ashamed  of 
our  narrowness,  when  we  take  large  views  of  God's 
works,  —  when  we  walk  among  the  noblest  scenes. 
There  is  a  free,  true,  generous  influence  that  the 
great  and  lovely  scenes  of  the  earth  pour  upon  us, 
that  revives  the  ingenuous  in  our  breasts.  We  are 
at  home  among  mountains,  rivers,  and  hills,  however 


236 


BEAUTY. 


restrained  in  the  company  of  our  kind.  We  there 
feel  truth,  kindness,  and  freedom.  There  is  also  a 
kindredness,  and  perhaps  a  sameness,  between  the 
idea  of  perfection  and  of  beauty,  so  that  the  influence 
of  the  beautiful  tends  to  give  the  idea  and  aspiration 
for  the  perfect.  Art  also  owes  its  inspiration  and 
marvels  to  its  presence.  What,  then,  limits  its  mis 
sion  ?  It  flows  over  nations  and  ages. 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE    LAW    OF    ASSOCIATION. 
"  An  unseen  guardian  ruled  the  band."  —  NORTHERN  WANDERER. 


Things  are  enjoyed  through  thoughts.  These  are 
so  variously,  so  subtly,  so  quickly  combined,  that  the 
law  of  their  formation  becomes  one  of  the  deepest 
facts  in  psychology.  In  most  minds,  these  subtle 
operations  are  but  dimly  traced ;  and,  even  to  minds 
of  superior  understanding,  there  is  a  hovering  of 
mystery  about  the  matter  that  challenges  the  clearest 
and  profoundest  power  of  analysis.  Coleridge  has 
exploded  Hartley  and  Hobbes,  leaving  us  Aristotle 
as  our  grand  theorizer  on  association.  We  will 
therefore  duly  revere  the  masterly  ancient. 

It  is  perfectly  evident  to  every  person  retaining 
the  least  idea  of  his  mental  operations,  that  the  scenes 
he  observes,  the  events  and  persons  he  witnesses, 
cause  an  association  of  ideas  with  which  these  stand 


BEAUTY.  237 

connected  in  the  mind,  and  through  which  they  are 
either  pleasingly  or  painfully  interesting.  As  nothing 
in  nature  stands  alone,  so  nothing  in  mind  is  single 
and  unassociated.  Thoughts  and  impressions  seem 
to  dwell  in  tribes.  These  sudden  unbidden  creations 
spring  up,  and,  with  hovering  wings,  pass  over  each 
scene,  word,  countenance,  and  thought,  we  contem 
plate.  We  know  how  various  these  associations  are 
under  the  same  scenes  at  different  times ;  and,  since 
the  enjoyment  of  the  beautiful  depends  so  much  upon 
these,  I  would  inquire  briefly  into  the  determining 
facts  involved  in  the  case,  with  a  view  to  the  general 
laws  these  facts  imply. 

1.  The  object  contemplated  is  itself  a  determining 
cause.    Each  thing  is  suggestive,  and  each  influences 
the  admirer  in  a  manner  peculiar  to  itself.     The 
violet  necessarily  causes  a  different  combination  of 
thoughts  from  the  rock  and  the  tree.    Places,  as  well 
as  persons,  appear  to  have  their  peculiar  genius. 
There   is   an   originality   stamped   on   every  thing. 
Niagara  leads  your  mind  a  certain  way ;  Wyoming, 
a  different  way ;  the  Rhone  and  the  sea,  another ; 
and  so  on  through  the  numberless  changes  and  va 
rieties  of  scene  and  circumstance.     The  shades  of 
difference  are  infinite,  even  were  the  stronger  diver 
gences   blotted   out.      No   two  places,  persons,  or 
utterances,  ever  caused  precisely  the  same  order  of 
impressions.     A  bright,  beautiful  morning,  —  a  low- 
ery  day,  —  a  general,  thought-inspiring  calm,  —  a 
storm,  —  spring  and  autumn,  instruct  all  of  the  les 
son  I  would  here  impress. 

2.  The  particular  GENIUS,  EXPERIENCE,  and  MOODS 


238  BEAUTY. 

of  individuals  are  also  determining  causes.  No  two 
minds  are  alike.  Each  has  an  action  peculiarly  its 
own.  As  a  particular  genius  presides  over  all  the 
reflections  of  the  intellect,  it  gives  character  to  its 
mental  associations.  Hence  no  two  minds  ever 
enjoy  a  scene  under  exactly  the  same  hues  of  imagi 
nation  and  fancy. 

There  is  a  particular  experience  of  past  impression 
belonging  to  all.  All  past  facts,  feelings,  thoughts, 
and  associations  of  thoughts,  have  left  their  image 
so  indelibly  in  the  consciousness,  that  the  question 
may  be  entertained  whether  any  of  them  ever  be 
come  extinct,  although  most  may  be  dormant  and 
inactive.  It  is  only  a  part  of  past  experience,  of 
which  we  retain  an  after-consciousness.  But  every 
body  knows  that  each  present  association  of  ideas  is 
linked  with  the  past,  some  of  whose  impressions  are 
hourly  revived  and  brought  into  new  combinations. 
To-day  I  stand  on  the  shore  of  a  lovely  body  of 
waters,  and,  casting  my  eye  over  its  placid  and 
never-freezing  surface,  think  of  Percival.  Why  do 
I  think  of  him  ?  Because  the  impression  caused  by 
his  poem  on  these  very  waters  still  exists  in  memory, 
so  that  the  moment  I  seek  the  soothing  influence  of 
this  beautiful  scene,  the  music  of  his  words,  unbidden 
except  by  what  is  before  me,  comes  sweetly  to  my 
ear.  This  instantly  recalls  another  impression,  and 
the  form  of  a  famed  American  bard  appears  before 
me  ;  for  his  appearance  is  vividly  remembered,  when 
repeating  the  two  first  lines  of  Percival.  I  still  con 
tinue  my  view ;  and,  through  similitude  and  contrast 
between  present  scene  and  past  impression,  springs 


BEAUTY.  239 

up  the  image  of  several  bodies  of  water,  seen  before  ; 
and,  whilst  thinking  of  it  as  the  symbol  of  peace  and 
of  truth,  I  am  reminded  of  the  moral  aims  of  nature, 
and,  through  this  last  view,  the  names  of  some  truth 
ful  teachers,  marked  by  a  high  power  to  discern  the 
spiritual  attributes  of  the  creation,  rise  before  me.  I 
also  think  of  pure  and  peaceful  characters,  whom 
memory  loves  to  cherish ;  for  their  lives  seem  to 
blend  with  the  quietness  and  loveliness  of  the  scene. 

We  will  suppose  that  another  stands  on  the  op 
posite  shore,  whose  mother,  by  misfortune,  had  lost 
her  life  in  these  waters.  He  may  enjoy  a  higher 
association  than  the  one  I  have  sketched ;  but  this 
mournful  fact  will  be  woven  into  the  web,  and, 
whenever  he  sails  upon  such  a  lake,  this  shade  will 
be  apt  to  fall  upon  his  thoughts.  A  third,  standing 
at  another  point,  draws  from  different  sources ;  and, 
so  far  as  the  revival  and  new  formation  of  former 
impression  enter  into  the  mental  association,  it  is 
evident  that  diversity  of  individual  experience  has  a 
strong  determining  power  over  the  diverse  creation 
of  such  association.  Each  having  a  combining 
genius  different  from  the  rest,  and  materials  of  past 
impression  different  from  all,  the  diversity  of  mental 
association  becomes  inevitably  illimitable. 

Some  bright  morning  we  awake  among  the  green 
hills  of  our  childhood ;  and  the  same  old  brooks, 
meadows,  orchards,  and  gate,  we  have  so  often  seen, 
appear  as  new.  The  sun  rises  upon  new  scenes. 
Through  the  same  lawn  and  near  the  same  water- 
brinks  we  have  rambled  many  a  time,  a  new  beauty 
dawns,  when  we  have  gained  a  happier  mood. 


240  BEAUTY. 

"  Nature,"  said  the  German,  "  wears  the  colors  of 
the  spirit,"  —  colors  always  varying,  and  always  re 
flected  back  to  the  beholder.  The  agitated  see  beauty 
nowhere.  The  mind  utterly  walled  in  by  sordid  aims, 
and  surrendered  to  the  grossness  of  animal  passions, 
gets  feebler  rays  of  the  infinite  beauty.  But  we  all 
have  our  exalted  moments  in  which  all  things  appear 
as  new,  in  which  every  work  of  God  wears  the  love 
liness  of  the  spirit  itself.  But  the  poet  did  not  utter 
the  whole  truth,  although  he  uttered  a  great  truth  ; 
for  the  same  nature  that  wears  the  spirit's  colors, 
through  the  variation  of  its  own  aspects,  modifies 
the  spirit  itself,  and,  to  a  certain  extent,  creates  the 
shades  of  its  contemplations.  So  numerous,  how 
ever,  are  these  mental  changes,  that  it  may  be  ques 
tioned,  and  perhaps  denied,  that  the  mind  ever  twice 
beholds  the  same  scene  under  exactly  the  same 
hues.  What  is  the  grand  purpose  of  your  mind 
to-day  ?  What  is  the  real  centre  of  your  affections 
now  ?  What  predominates  as  king  among  your 
thoughts  ?  If  you  can  answer  to  this,  you  present  a 
fact  that  colors  all  things  to  you.  The  lover  sees 
nature  through  his  love  ;  the  miser  beholds  it  through 
his  coin,  the  joyous  through  his  joy,  the  sorrowing 
through  his  grief.  Whatever  be  the  inward  predom 
inating  fact,  it  will  unconsciously  influence  the  asso 
ciation.  Who,  therefore,  in  view  of  all  the  premises 
thus  far  assumed,  enjoys  the  beautiful  most  truly, 
and  through  the  noblest  association  ?  He  it  is  who, 
having  excellence  of  natural  capacity,  possesses  the 
richest  material  of  past  impression,  and  in  whom 
lofty  aims,  generous  sentiments,  purity  of  feeling, 


BEAUTY.  241 

and  refinement  of  intellectual  cultivation,  exist.  The 
true  and  the  natural  best  enjoy  beauty,  because  truth 
and  naturalness  are  its  permanent,  qualities. 

3.  But,  in  association,  SIMILITUDE  or  likeness  de 
serves  first  to  be  named.  A  fact  or  a  thought  is 
brought  to  your  notice.  Instantly  it  connects  itself 
with  other  facts  in  the  past.  It  calls  up  some  like  fact 
or  thought,  existent  in  an  association  which  otherwise 
had  not  been  revived.  We  experience  the  same  in 
regard  to  places,  when  the  new  impressions  bring 
over  them  the  mingling  shadows  of  other  and  former 
impressions,  coming  from  similar  scenes. 

There  is  a  singular  phenomenon,  somewhat  diffi 
cult  of  description,  which  probably  belongs  to  this 
division.  Perhaps  one  in  twenty  of  those  who  speak 
on  the  subject  admit,  that  in  certain  places  a  sudden 
consciousness,  like  a  flash  of  intuition,  has  arisen  of 
having  been  there  before,  or  of  having  had  some 
vision  of  the  very  scenes,  persons,  and  utterances, 
before  them.  In  some  instances,  a  connection  equally 
sudden  has  sprung  up  between  the  consciousness  of 
having  held  the  scene  as  a  prophetic  picture  before 
seeing  it,  and  the  consciousness  of  something  soon  to 
occur,  in  order  to  fulfil  this  picture  entire.  Some 
may  seek  a  solution  in  the  idea  that  it  is  a  gleam  of 
dormant  prescience  suddenly  bursting  forth,  a  flash 
of  destiny  evolved  from  a  prophetic  soul ;  or,  per 
haps,  a  whisper  from  spirit-land,  apprising  the  pilgrim 
that  he  is  walking  his  destined  path.  Few,  I  imagine, 
would  repeat  the  Platonic  vision  and  doctrine  of 
cycles.  But,  standing  on  humbler  grounds,  I  would 
suggest  it  as  a  probability  that  the  singular  phenom- 

21 


242  BEAUTY. 

enon  is  owing  to  one  of  two  causes,  —  a  similitude 
between  the  actual  scene  and  a  scene  at  some  pre 
vious  time  vividly  imagined  (for  the  imagination 
sketches  scenes  the  eye  has  never  beheld),  or  a  like 
ness  between  the  present  actual  scene  and  a  former 
scene  really  beheld,  whose  image  has  not  faded  from 
the  mind ;  but,  having  lost  its  connection  with  particu 
lar  facts  in  the  association,  time  and  place  cannot  be 
identified.  In  either  case,  likeness  is  the  law  by 
which  the  mysterious  fact  occurs.  In  some  instances, 
memory  has  so  triumphed  over  the  dimness  of  the 
forgotten  facts  in  the  former  impression  as  to  recall 
place  and  time,  thereby  solving  the  mystery. 

There  are  certain  parts  of  our  associations,  more 
vivid  than  the  rest,  which  recall  the  others  ;  but  the 
particular  impression  which,  through  likeness  or  con 
trast,  recalls  a  whole  past  association,  usually  disap 
pears  from  it,  when  the  two  are  dismissed. 

4.  CONTRAST  is  a  striking  condition  of  association. 
The  refined  in  idea  often  suggests  the  coarse  and  the 
rude.  Spiritualism  brings  up  materialism  ;  power 
reminds  you  of  weakness  ;  permanency,  of  change  ; 
life,  of  death ;  light,  of  darkness ;  and  the  true  re 
minds  you  of  the  false. 

But  contrast  is  not  so  universal  in  its  range  pro 
bably  as  likeness ;  and,  where  its  exhibitions  are 
brightest  in  an  association,  likeness  is  usually  co- 
present  in  the  formative  process.  In  a  reverie  that 
A.  enjoyed,  a  spiritual  view  of  human  immortality 
suggested  the  common  physical  basis  on  which  many 
have  placed  it.  At  this  instant,  a  likeness  between 
the  coarser  view  and  the  rough  facts  of  nature  arose 


BEAUTY.  243 

as  a  part  of  the  present  association.  "  Perhaps," 
said  he,  "  these  views  best  correspond  to  the  world 
around  us.  Behold  these  frozen  grounds,  thesi-e 
rocks,  these  stumps  and  stubble !  See  all  this  bat 
tling  for  subsistence  with  the  elements  !  Nature 
stands  up  in  gross  facts ;  and  who  knows  that  these 
refined  sentiments  best  become  man  or  his  lot  ?  " 
Whereupon  a  former  association  came  up  from  its 
long  repose  in  the  grave  of  memory,  in  which  an  old 
friend  of  bold  visage  stood  forth,  challenging  a  dreamy 
sage  "  to  explain  him  away  "  if  he  could,  —  I  say  he 
came  up,  place,  manner,  and  time,  along  with  him. 
But  how  came  he  into  his  presence  ?  It  is  evident 
that  contrast  united  the  first  two  ideas ;  that  likeness 
between  one  of  them,  and  a  corresponding  coarseness 
of  external  matter,  suggested  the  thought  that  nature, 
in  her  stubborn  facts,  refuses  to  be  etherealized  ;  and 
that  likeness  between  this  thought  and  the  bold  chal 
lenge  of  his  former  friend  brought  him  over  a  large 
distance,  both  of  time  and  space,  into  the  association. 
And  I  am  inclined  to  think,  that  this  example  comes 
quite  near  to  a  just  representation  of  the  usual  bal 
ance  of  likeness  over  contrast  in  the  great  majority 
of  mental  associations. 

5.  When  things  are  contemplated  as  effects,  they 
naturally  suggest  cause;  and,  since  this  relation  of 
cause  and  effect  extends  into  every  life  and  history, 
as  well  as  into  nature,  it  becomes  a  necessary  and 
indeed  a  general  law  of  association.  Rome  must 
suggest  its  Romulus,  the  rivers  their  springs,  St. 
Peter's  its  Angelo,  the  universe  its  God.  This  prin 
ciple  is  too  plain,  I  judge,  to  need  any  explanations. 


244  BEAUTY. 

6.  Connection  in  time  is  plainly  involved  in  this 
matter,  as  is  also  connection  in  space.  Cotempora- 
neous  events  recall  each  other ;  or,  more  properly, 
the  mind  is  enabled  to  recall  them  through  their 
cotemporaneousness.  Equally  useful  is  the  connec 
tion  in  reference  to  space ;  for  the  impression  made 
upon  your  mind  by  the  cataract  naturally  awakens 
those  made  by  the  wild  and  rugged  grandeur  of  the 
proximate  rocks,  the  green  shrubbery,  and  the  wild 
flowers  blooming  near.  In  these  conditions,  so  im 
perfectly  expressed,  the  principal  facts  of  association 
are  represented,  The  facts  stated  under  the  first 
two  divisions,  namely,  the  objects  contemplated,  the 
particular  genius,  experience,  and  moods  of  the  indi 
vidual,  although  they  go  to  determine  what  the  char 
acter  of  the  associations  will  be,  do  nothing  to  exhibit 
the  law  by  which  the  associations  occur.  This  must 
be  traced  in  the  subsequent  statement.  Time,  place, 
connection  of  cause  and  effect,  likeness  and  contrast, 
seem  to  cover  the  entire  ground.  It  is  not  certain 
that  there  is  any  one  general  law  under  which  these 
facts  of  association  may  be  said  to  come.  Impres 
sions  that  co-exist  in  the  mind  are  more  readily 
recalled ;  and  the  first,  and  indeed  the  main,  thing 
necessary  to  recall  a  past  association,  seems  to  be 
the  recollection  of  the  more  vivid  part.  If  there  is  a 
general  law  that  flows  through  and  masters  all  the 
£acts  of  association,  it  would  appear  to  be  this,  —  a 
cotemporaneity  of  impressions  ;  but  this,  we  think, 
may  be  doubted  as  being  all-sufficient. 

But  this  is  not  the  place  for  extended  treatise  on 
the  associative  law.     I  would,  however,  seek  a  prac- 


BEAUTY.  245 

tical  benefit.  There  is  a  sense  in  which  the  general 
character  of  the  mental  associations  may  be  im 
proved  through  a  proper  interference  of  the  will :  a 
pure  feeling,  good  and  generous  aims,  and  intellect 
enriched  and  liberalized,  must  always  conspire  to 
nobler  associations,  to  those  through  which  the  true, 
the  beautiful,  the  just,  and  the  sacred,  shall  ever 
more  be  real  and  divine.  That  mere  perception 
"  is  passive  to  an  external  power  "  will  not  be  de 
nied  ;  but  there  are  minglings  of  the  voluntary,  even 
in  the  spontaneous  movements ;  and,  as  the  will  has 
the  command  of  the  attention,  as  also  the  guardian 
ship  of  the  mind's  progress  and  purity,  it  may  do 
much  in  determining  to  what  extent  and  in  what  man 
ner  the  beauty  of  the  universe  shall  be  enjoyed. 


CHAPTER    VI. 

MEDIUMS. 


Returning  to  the  dominion  of  the  senses,  it  should 
be  denied,  that  the  beauty  of  the  visible  world  has 
ever  been  half  seen  ;  for  nature  is  not  half  known. 
A  new  race  or  age,  standing  on  higher  grounds  of 
knowledge  arid  moral  excellence,  would  see  a  far 
more  beautiful  world  than  has  ever  yet  dawned  on 
men,  in  the  same  old  but  youthful  nature  that  now 
so  lovingly  surrounds  each  and  all  of  us.  Nature 
will  always  keep  pace  with  the  soul,  and  will  reflect 
back  its  real  hues. 
21* 


246 


BEAUTY. 


Were  men  commissioned  to  re-make  the  world, 
what  a  medley  would  it  be  !  Some,  it  may  be 
imagined,  would  tear  the  rose  and  the  violet  from 
nature's  brow,  as  the  ungodly  artificials  that  grew 
up  since  the  fall.  Others,  of  more  serious  mood, 
would  multiply  her  shades,  and  deepen  her  solitudes. 
Others  would  bring  out  a  comic  laugh  from  every 
nook  and  corner.  The  fool  of  mammon  would  mul 
tiply  corn-fields  and  cotton  plantations,  whilst  many 
a  young  sentimentalist  would  reduce  all  to  a  land 
scape  of  very  beautiful  things  !  But  the  world's 
beauty  would  undoubtedly  be  marred,  not  enhanced, 
were  even  its  deserts  to  be  annihilated,  and  its  owls 
to  -be  slain.  Oh  !  give  us  nature  just  as  she  is,  with 
the  old  rock  and  moss  on  it ;  for  nothing  is  so  good 
and  so  beautiful. 

Vegetative  life  delights  us  in  flowers.  Who  can 
forget  Burns  and  his  mountain  daisy  ?  The  lily, 
meekly  lifting  its  head  over  turbid  waters,  and  smil 
ing  around  upon  a  dismal  waste,  makes  all  descrip 
tion  silent.  Color,  form,  and  fragrance,  come  out  to 
bless  the  senses.  They  are  a  resurrection  and  a 
life  to  all  gentle  and  delightful  motion.  Colors 
are  beauty's  pencillings.  Motion  is  her  minister. 
Worlds  move  in  graceful  orbits,  never  breaking  the 
law  of  measure.  Clouds  are  poetic  drapery,  taking 
all  forms,  and  speaking  all  speech.  Their  shadow 
once  protected  the  doomed  city  from  the  Roman. 
These  mystic  forms  that  temper  the  light  of  heaven, 
that  give  shower,  rainbow,  and  lightning-gleams  to 
men,  are  more  expressive  of  mystery  than  other 
modes  of  matter.  Hence,  superstition  has  listened 


BEAUTY. 


to  thunder  as  being  more  directly  the  voice  of  Di 
vinity  than  are  the  voices  of  the  bird  and  the  sea. 
The  beauty  spread  out  over  land,  sea,  and  air, 
would  speak  with  all,  would  be  loved  by  all ;  but  the 
imagination  is  so  much  greater  than  the  most  elo 
quent  pens,  it  can  do  so  much  more  for  each  and 
all,  that  the  best  attempts  at  exhibition  look  meagre 
and  useless.  Let  us  sooner  say,  Open  your  eyes  to 
what  God  does  before  you.  Read  on  his  page  what 
is  more  perfectly  written  than  Harolds  or  Hamlets. 
Beauty  is  also  intellectual.  Art  and  life  are  but  its 
various  appearing.  There  are  thoughts  more  beau 
tiful  than  stars,  and  affections  more  lovely  than 
flowers ;  wherefore,  the  soul  is  a  higher  fountain  of 
beauty  than  Avhat  the  senses  behold. 

The  world's  mind  is  individualized  as  variously  as 
the  world's  matter,  and  the  beauty  which  appertains 
thereto  has  similar  variety  and  conditions.  Intellec 
tual  beauty  dawns  upon  us  through  the  reason  and 
the  imagination.  Thought  is  always  beautiful,  when 
true  to  the  thing  and  to  the  thinker.  Naturalness  is 
indeed  the  great  law,  since  nature  spurns  affectation, 
and  refuses  to  be  maternal  to  that  which  is  not  her 
own.  Branches  of  living  plants  and  trees,  cut  off  in 
their  flowering,  may  appear  gay  when  planted  in  the 
garden ;  but,  having  no  root  in  the  soil,  they  soon 
droop  and  die,  as  do  the  thoughts  of  hasty  minds, 
cut  off  from  trees  of  knowledge  they  have  never 
nourished. 

Thought  may  have  beauty  in  three  forms,  —  in 
conception,  utterance,  and  deed.  The  silent  rising  of 
a  new  and  great  truth  is  as  the  dawn  of  a  new  sun. 


248  BEAUTY. 

It  is  also  the  appearance  of  a  social  guest,  well  wor 
thy  to  grace  the  divine  banquet  of  the  heart.  In  the 
philosophical  form,  thought  Avears  a  serene  majesty, 
is  generous  and  tolerant,  and,  through  its  deep  and 
tranquil  energy,  penetrates  the  interior  of  things, 
traces  the  ever-beautiful  connection  of  cause  and 
effect,  and  by  its  expansiveness  bursts  the  narrow 
bonds  of  bigotry  asunder.  Indeed,  Socrates,  Aris 
totle,  Newton,  and  Bacon,  belong  to  the  great  intel 
lectual  scenery  of  the  earth,  which,  like  the  great 
natural  scenes,  are  few,  but  which  wear  a  glory 
more  exalted  than  Niagara  or  the  Vale  of  Chamouni, 
from  whose  verdant  bosom  you  look  up  to  the  crys 
tal  glaziers,  and  behold  the  snows  of  a  thousand 
years. 

Arguments^  bearing  up  the  important  proposition, 
are  more  beautiful  than  Grecian  columns.  Thought, 
winged  by  imagination  and  plumed  by  fancy,  has, 
like  "  the  bird  of  paradise,"  beauty  in  its  flight.  We 
love  such  lively  visitants.  When  we  have  long 
walked  the  spacious  halls  of  reason's  granite  temple, 
and  become  weary  of  the  immense  theorization  that 
for  a  time  impressed  us  with  its  grandeur,  it  is  good 
to  rest  and  regale  ourselves  in  the  fairies'  castle,  the 
home  and  dwelling-place  of  the  imagination. 

Thought  has  beauty  in  its  apparel  of  words.  All 
beautifying  genius  gives  proof  of  itself  in  making  for 
it  a  fitting  garment.  "  He  tempereth  the  wind  to 
the  shorn  lamb,"  —  "  Man's  inhumanity  to  man 
makes  countless  thousands  mourn,"  are  immortal 
utterances,  not  more  on  account  of  their  truth  than 
of  their  perfect  expression.  First  make  eloquent 


BEAUTY.  249 

the  heart ;  then  will  come  beauty  and  eloquence  of 
words. 

Action  transfers  beauty  of  thought  to  beauty  of 
deed,  as  the  pictures  of  Raphael,  the  structure 
of  St.  Peter's,  and  every  generously  heroic  act,  fully 
prove.  Art  is  but  this  transfer,  giving  to  genius 
"  a  local  habitation  and  a  name."  The  passions, 
too,  are  deeply  eloquent,  in  whose  domain  all  the 
beauties,  from  the  wild  and  stormful  to  the  soft 
and  tender,  freely  move.  They  prompt  the  enthusi 
astic  deed ;  they  breathe  in  sorrow's  song ;  they 
work  sublimely  in  many  a  chivalrous  daring ;  also  in 
every  high  and  ardent  hope. 

The  soul  in  its  endless  variety,  like  nature,  yields 
a  universal  beauty.  Shakspeare  represents  the  world 
in  drama,  and  in  all  its  parts,  including  the  fool  and 
maniac,  with  every  weakness  and  infirmity.  Each 
swells  the  interest  and  heightens  the  beauty  of  the 
whole.  Every  shade  of  character  comes  into  the 
play.  And,  if  all  these  diversities  beautify  the  repre 
sentation,  can  the  original  be  beautiless,  —  that  is, 
the  world  just  as  we  find  it  ?  The  soul  reflects 
beauty  even  from  its  ruins. 

Hope,  the  great  prophet  of  the  inner  temple, 
yields  superior  beauty.  We  feel  a  mingled  emotion, 
when  the  trembling  weakness,  combining  with  the 
deeper  power  of  humanity,  looks  up  in  a  confiding 
trust  and  expectation  of  a  good  day  coming  ;  when 
over  present  trials  the  soul  sheds  down  its  various 
light ;  when  the  heart,  alive  by  its  own  celestial  fire, 
flames  up  to  heaven  in  love ;  and  hope  so  vigor 
ously  soars  and  expands  as  to  suggest  the  conception 


250  BEAUTY. 

of  the  finite  spreading  out  her  arms  to  embrace  the 
infinite.  This  tender  sublimity,  religion  inspires;  and 
it  evidently  belongs  to  the  most  beautiful  phenomena 
of  the  soul.  Worship,  when  soul-inspired,  surpasses 
Orion  and  Pleiades.  What  sacred  sublimity  streams 
through  the  consciousness  of  filial  union  with  the 
Infinite !  What  grandeur  surrounds  the  sentiment 
of  the  immortal  life  !  What  beauty  in  the  simple 
sentiment  of  love  ! 

We  have  stood  amidst  the  charms  of  Flora,  and 
asked  if  beauty's  ray  was  most  golden  as  corning 
from  it,  or  as  coming  from  intellect  merely  ;  when 
the  prophets,  apostles,  saints,  and  martyrs  of  truth, 
arose  to  say,  that  the  moral  ray  of  beauty  is  most 
quenchless  and  perfect.  Goodness  never  wears  out. 
Its  beauty,  radiating  from  the  history  of  Jesus,  is 
lasting  as  the  sun  and  moon,  and  more  than  they 
can  win  and  delight  the  divinity  of  the  human  heart. 
Believing,  as  we  do,  that  every  law  of  beauty  in  the 
material  world  is  representative  of  analogous  but 
higher  laws  in  the  beauty  of  mind,  I  have  asked,  in 
what  character  of  history  are  all  the  laws  of  beauty 
probably  expressed  ?  Who  is  he  that  represents  them 
entire  ?  There  is  but  one  in  whom  every  known 
law  of  beauty  appears  to  have  been  expressed.  He 
is  Jesus  of  Christianity,  the  sinless  spirit,  the  bright 
and  morning  star  of  the  new  age  of  truth,  good 
ness,  and  peace. 

The  soul  works  its  likeness  upon  the  organism. 
The  eye,  countenance,  form,  and  movement,  are 
mediums  through  which  it  shines  out  upon  us.  A 
nobler  race  of  minds  would  be  entempled  by  a 


BEAUTY.  251 

nobler  race  of  bodies.  These  two  corresponding 
powers,  soul  and  form,  will,  in  the  great  plan  of 
things,  advance  or  recede  together. 

Living  between  the  30th  and  60th  degree  of  north 
ern  latitude,  where  beauty  personal  claims  Persia, 
Greece,  England,  Holland,  and  the  countries  bor 
dering  upon  Caucasus,  it  is  not  improper  that  a 
remark  be  made  on  this  branch  of  our  theme,  before 
leaving  it  wholly. 

We  have  the  equilibrium  of  humanity  in  man  and 
woman ;  a  division  and  distinction  this,  founded 
primarily  in  a  diversity  of  spirit,  and  correspondingly 
expressed  in  difference  of  organism.  This  would  be 
our  philosophical  basis,  were  this  the  place  and  time 
for  venturing  out  on  the  sea  of  speculation  concern 
ing  the  source  and  origin  of  sex.  But  this  is  not 
demanded.  A  real,  happy  difference  of  spirit  is  the 
grand  difference ;  which,  having  a  basis  in  the  im 
mortal  nature,  must  be  of  everlasting  continuance. 
If  man's  form  is  expressive  of  more  power,  the  aver 
age  reason  is  that  more  power  belongs  to  masculine 
mind ;  and,  if  woman  has  more  grace,  it  is  because 
her  spirit  is  more  beautiful  than  his. 

The  waving  line,  so  much  celebrated  by  Hogarth 
and  others,  abounds  far  more  in  woman  than  in  man. 
Her  movements  are  more  spontaneous,  her  intuitions 
more  perfect,  and  her  manners  more  naturally  grace 
ful,  than  his.  But  beauty  personal,  in  both  sexes,  is 
valuable  as  a  source  of  mutual  interest,  and  as  an 
expression  of  the  heart  and  mind.  Climate,  doubt 
less,  modifies  every  species  of  beauty ;  but,  were  we 
to  suggest  the  true  mode  of  improving  the  beauty  of 


252  BEAUTY. 

the  race,  we  should,  after  naming  some  physical 
conditions,  suggest  such  cultivation  and  growth  of 
mind  as  will  bring  upon  the  countenance  and  man 
ner  the  image  of  truth  and  magnanimity ;  for  what 
ever  passions  and  qualities  have  dominion  in  mind, 
through  some  wonderful  process,  impress  their  like 
ness  on  the  material  feature.  Beautify  the  soul : 
this  Is  the  first  law.  And,  through  the  material  form, 
this  primal  fact  will  shine  as  solar  radiance  through 
transparent  clouds.  Poor  is  the  idolatry  of  pretti- 
ness.  What  is  the  Trojan  Helen  to  Imogene  and 
Desdemona  ? 

Man  abhors  to  behold  his  image  in  woman.  She 
also  dislikes  to  see  the  reflection  of  herself  from  him, 
and,  with  her  instinctive  wisdom,  readily  detects  the 
presence  and  absence  of  manly  qualities.  The  great 
master  of  the  human  heart  recorded  no  miracle,  we 
think,  in  the  means  through  which  the  divine  Desde 
mona  was  possessed  by  the  ugly-featured  Moor  ;  for 
his  mind  was  strongly  marked  by  heroic,  manly  force. 
Thus  she  speaks  the  true  philosophy  of  the  matter :  — 

"  That  I  did  love  the  Moor  to  live  with  him, 
My  downright  violence  and  storm  of  fortunes 
May  trumpet  to  the  world ;  my  heart's  subdued 
Even  to  the  very  quality  of  my  lord  : 
/  saw  Othello's  visage  in  his  mind ; 
And  to  his  honors,  and  his  valiant  parts, 
Did  I  my  soul  and  fortunes  consecrate." 

So  far  is  Desdemona  the  voice  of  her  sex.  She  is 
only  subdued  by  generous,  manly  qualities. 

If  the  violet  or  its  many  sisters  appeared  conscious 
of  beauty,  the  pleasure  of  beholding  would  be  at 


BEAUTY.  253 

once  repelled ;  but  unconsciousness  meekly  reposes 
there.  Nothing  asks  you,  "  Am  I  not  beautiful  ?  " 
Here  is  a  lesson.  May  none,  on  whom  nature  has 
lavished  so  rare  a  gift,  omit  to  learn  it ! 

The  Greek  mind  had  power  as  well  as  elegance, 
which  proves  that  the  passionate  admiration  of  the 
beautiful  may  combine  with  great  energy  and  force ; 
for,  to  them,  beauty  was  only  second  to  virtue.  In 
the  elements  of  man's  character,  power  and  grace 
should  unite  in  similar  proportion  as  they  are  blended 
in  the  action  and  form  of  nature  around  us.  The 
earth  is  a  concentration  of  silent,  awful  forces.  But 
it  is  also  carpeted  with  verdure  and  flowers,  and 
bathed  in  the  light  of  beautiful  orbs.  As  Deity  is 
perfect  and  everlasting,  it  follows  that  beauty  will 
always  mark  the  works  of  his  power ;  and,  as  the 
soul  is  to  lose  none  of  its  faculties  by  future  change, 
we  may  infer  that  its  interest  in  this  subject  will  con 
tinue  for  ever.  Also,  from  the  universal  diffusion 
of  this  quality  through  all  worlds,  we  may  anticipate 
a  universal  appreciative  power  in  all ;  and,  from  the 
new  interest  the  radiance  of  beauty  gives  us  in  the 
universe,  from  its  capacity  to  refine  the  soul,  to  de 
velop  its  love,  and  from  the  elevated  happiness  it 
imparts  to  mankind,  we  may  be  justified  in  the  con 
clusion,  that  the  beautiful  is  no  ordinary  agency, 
throughout  the  boundless  empire  of  mind  and  space, 
in  the  proper  education  of  every  moral  intelligence. 

God  is  the  Infinite  Beauty ;  but  nature  is  the  prism 
through  which  the  rays  pass  into  the  division  of  end 
less  variety. 

22 


254 


RISING  OF  THOUGHT. 


IN  the  soul's  growth,  a  desire  springs  up  to  enjoy  a 
higher  world  than  that  of  life's  and  nature's  oft- 
repeated  facts.  This  aspiration  is  the  proof  of  a  gen 
eral  want,  live  where  we  may,  go  where  we  will. 
Nor  does  our  inventive  age  discover  the  means  of  sat 
isfaction.  It  is  one  bright  mark  of  the  soul's  gran 
deur,  that  it  rises  above  the  surrounding  circum 
stance,  that  its  visions  are  above  the  palace,  and 
that  the  present  never  finds  it  as  having  all.  If  we 
would  enjoy  a  higher  world,  the  mind  must  create 
it,  and  from  the  materials  which  already  exist.  Can 
we  not  do  this,  each  one  for  himself?  Does  not  life 
furnish  ample  material  ?  Is  not  the  soul  sufficiently 
creative  ? 

To  answer  these  questions  rightly,  two  truths 
need  be  staled :  —  First,  all  things,  having  sprung 
from  thought,  are  necessarily  revelations  and  sug 
gestions  of  it  in  various  forms.  Nature  addresses 
the  soul.  Second,  the  mind  is  able  to  rise  from  thing 
to  thought,  from  fact  to  law,  plan  to  purpose,  and 
from  the  symbolism  to  the  symbolized.  This  power 
to  ascend  is  Heaven's  gift  of  gold,  the  wings  of  the 
spirit,  without  which  all  upward  tendency  would 
cease.  All  genius  has  it,  and  it  is  probable  that  all 


RISING    OF    THOUGHT.  255 

have  that  common  genius  necessary  to  find  a  world 
of  thought  above  the  world  of  things.  The  coarse 
worm  yields  us  a  beautiful  fly ;  the  thorny  bush,  a 
lovely  flower.  Why  should  not  the  coarse  world 
yield  a  higher  sphere,  since  the  transforming  power 
is  in  the  soul  that  sees  ? 

Argument  is  scarcely  needed  to  convince  the 
reader  of  the  general  existence  of  this  ability.  Who 
does  not  imagine  a  greater  mountain  than  Mont 
Blanc  ?  Who,  at  times,  does  not  sketch  to  himself  un 
consciously  a  more  beautiful  condition  than  the  eye 
has  witnessed  ?  Often  do  we  gather  to  hear  the 
great  man ;  and,  when  he  is  heard,  we  find  that  the 
man  of  the  imagination  is  far  greater  than  the  man 
of  the  platform.  We  can  imagine  greater  Niagaras 
and  greater  Alps  than  we  ever  shall  see.  Yet  the 
imagination  is  not  the  reality ;  nor  could  it  thus  step 
beyond  the  real  into  a  greater  ideal,  except  it  had 
been  aided  and  strengthened  by  it.  Some  minds  of 
the  best  gifts  have  been  dissatisfied  in  the  midst  of 
the  earth's  celebrated  grandeurs.  Whence  this  feel 
ing,  except  from  the  fact  that  the  soul  is  greater  than 
nature  and  art,  and  was  formed  .to  rise  above  them  ? 
Life  could  never  be  painfully  dull  and  plodding,  but 
for  an  abiding  perception  of  what  is  more  perfect 
than  the  experience  of  to-day. 

To  aid  the  mind  in  bringing  a  new  world  out  of 
the  old  one,  and  yet  in  harmony  with  it,  attention 
should  be  given  to  the  fact,  that- all  things  of  life  and 
nature  are  pervaded  by  the  general  law  of  similitude, 
which  makes  each  and  every  thing  suggestive  of 
what  is  higher  and  greater  than  itself.  Beneath  this, 


256  RISING    OF    THOUGHT. 

all  life  and  being  flow.  From  the  many  and  inti 
mate  connections  between  the  Creator's  Mind  and 
the  material  world  it  has  fashioned  and  governed, 
from  the  same  intimate  connections  between  the 
mind  human  arid  its  exhibitions  in  conduct  and  in 
art,  there  is  a  constant  and  mutual  reflection  of  light 
between  the  worlds  of  matter  and  of  mind,  between 
the  soul  that  causes  and  the  effects  produced.  Ana 
logy  is  our  bridge  over  the  intervening  abyss  of 
darkness ;  walking  which,  we  pass  from  material  to 
spiritual,  from  thing  to  thought,  from  nature  to  God. 
It  is  our  mediation  between  the  seen  and  the  unseen. 
Il  is  our  passage  from  the  known  to  the  unknown, 
from  the  temporal  to  the  eternal.  Thus  surrounded 
by  the  universal  and  assisting  influence  of  this  law 
of  similitude  between  matter  arid  mind,  and  being 
endowed  with  the  power  of  forming  ideas  above 
their  suggestive  causes,  I  would  introduce  for  gen 
eral  contemplation  a  subject  which  might  as  well  be 
named  the  RISING  OF  THOUGHT,  —  a  topic  of  prac 
tical  importance  certainly,  since  it  calls  us  to  a  new 
spiritual  beauty  and  pleasure  that  spread  over  the 
otherwise  dull  facts  of  life  the  halo  of  a  divine  inter 
est,  and  which  lay  all  things  under  a  new  and  willing 
tribute  to  the  spiritual  good  of  their  rightful  emperor, 
the  soul. 

But  we  would  have  no  war  between  the  actual 
and  the  ideal,  no  more,  indeed,  than  there  is  between 
the  stars  and  the  earth  over  which  they  watch.  We 
would  relinquish  nothing  of  nature,  no,  not  a  pebble 
on  the  shore,  not  a  sand  of  the  desert.  Each  fact  is 
ours.  For  the  present,  we  would  not  exchange 


RISING    OF    THOUGHT.  257 

seats  with  angels ;  we  would  not  give  them  our 
fruitful  earth,  our  fountains,  our  daylight,  and  storms, 
for  their  peaceful  abodes.  We  would  not  exchange 
our  joys  for  theirs.  We  want  our  present  life  ;  and 
to  us  our  sun  and  moon  are  better  than  the  future 
illumination,  which  needs  not  their  presence.  We 
will  cling  to  our  real  sources  of  joy.  Let  us,  there 
fore,  gain  a  world  of  idea,  that  shall  render  more 
interesting  the  world  of  facts  and  of  things. 

Going  into  nature,  the  highest  truth  it  yields  us  is, 
that  every  thing  has  a  hand  pointing  to  that  which 
is  above  itself.  The  acorn  points  to  the  oak ;  the 
oak  emblems  the  firmness  and  dignity  of  man.  The 
infant  points  to  man,  and  man  points  to  God,  whose 
image  he  is.  Springs  point  to  rivers,  rivers  to  seas ; 
and  these  symbolize  the  Infinite,  the  vast  deep  of 
Soul.  God  is  the  grand  Original ;  and  man,  having 
immortal  powers,  is,  in  this  kingdom  of  nature,  an 
original  also,  whilst  all  else  is  only  representative. 
Man  is  representative  in  his  relation  to  Him.  But 
the  whole  universe  appears  to  be  representative  in 
its  relation  to  both.  All  things  unite  to  form  a 
boundless  system  of  symbols,  of  representation,  of 
which  each  may  be  its  own  interpreter.  It  is  true,  that, 
could  we  at  first  commence  with  God  in  our  reason 
ing,  knowing  him  without  the  aids  of  representation, 
we  should  see  in  him  all  we  may  know  in  nature  ; 
and,  for  the  same  cause,  could  we  comprehend  the 
soul  without  the  aid  of  its  phenomena,  we  could  dis 
cover  in  it  all  that  art  and  life  display.  For,  in  the 
order  of  being,  God  is  first  and  causative;  and,  in 
the  order  of  human  development,  the  soul  is  first  and 

22* 


258  RISING    OF    THOUGHT. 

causative,  But,  as  we  know  God  and  the  soul 
through  their  phenomena,  we  must  begin  with  these ; 
we  must  ascend  from  visible  to  invisible,  from  nature 
to  its  Creator,  from  the  life  that  is  to  the  soul  that 
makes  it. 

Youth  is  fond  of  symbols,  Early  in  the  world's 
age  did  our  race  use  this  principle  in  the  construction 
of  its  language,  finding  in  things  the  expression  of 
thoughts.  We  still  image  the  invisible,  We  make 
the  fountain  and  the  mild  flowing  river  to  speak  of 
the  spontaneous  gush  of  innocent  and  truthful  feel 
ing,  of  the  calm  flow  of  pure  affections.  The  sun 
gives  us  the  idea  of  nature's  benevolent  sovereignty. 
He  governs  in  silence,  making  no  display  of  author 
ity,  when  holding  the  distant  Herschel  and  Neptune 
in  his  grasp.  A  genuine  sovereignty  is  never  an 
nounced  by  trumpets.  The  revolving  worlds,  in  their 
radiant  pathways,  pause  not  to  apprise  the  sister 
planets  that  they  obey.  Because  obedience  is  per 
fect,  nothing  needs  be  said.  These  planets  seem  to 
look  down  on  this  garrulous  world,  to  admonish  its 
professions  of  virtue  ;  to  apprise  all,  that,  would  they 
rotate  in  the  self-elected  way  of  goodness,  they  may 
safely  leave  to  action  and  silence  every  particle  of 
merit  they  possess.  All  self-boasting  excellences 
are  reproved  by  the  silent  and  simple  excellences  of 
the  natural  world.  He  who,  reverently  welcoming 
the  new  day,  beholds  the  sun  as  the  type  of  In 
finite  Love,  gets  more  than  daylight  from  his  face. 
His  thought  kindles  piety,  and  illumines  being.  He 
derives  a  spiritual  joy  from  a  material  orb.  This 
il  monarch  of  the  climes"  gave  out  a  higher  influ- 


RISING    OF    THOUGHT.  259 

ence  when  he  awoke  the  worship  of  ancient  heathen 
dom,  than  when  he  ripens  a  plantation  of  rice  or 
cotton  ;  for  the  human  heart,  under  whatever  dark 
ness  it  may  lie,  is  worth  infinitely  more  than  earths 
and  oceans.  The  sunrise  is  a  prophet,  saying  to  the 
world,  "  Awake  to  duty.  Live,  this  day  of  God,  as 
men."  It  is  suggestive  of  the  full-orbed  truth  rising 
on  the  night  of  a  people  sunk  in  ignorance,  but 
waking  to  reason  and  science.  It  is  the  image  of 
great  souls.  It  is  the  symbol  of  love,  of  friendship  ; 
not  of  the  blind  impulse,  but  of  love  pervaded  by 
light.  Sunset,  too,  tells  us  that  the  brightest  days, 
as  likewise  the  darkest,  must  end.  Is  there  not  more 
poetry  in  the  gorgeous  west,  —  is  there  not  more  of 
the  beautiful,  tinged  with  cheerful  sadness,  —  is  there 
not  more  of  the  spirit  of  reflection  in  the  last  red 
glow,  as  he  joyfully  takes  the  hill  and  cloud  into  his 
fiery  baptism,  than  there  is  in  the  rising  of  this  orb  ? 
Here  many  thoughts  sparkle  and  burn.  The  death 
of  the  saint  and  the  sage,  more  glorious  than  their 
birth,  is  here  represented.  The  ultimatum  of  every 
good  race  is  better  than  its  beginning.  It  is  the  radi 
ance  of  friendship  enriched  by  experience,  the  im 
mortality  leaving  brightness  on  the  track  of  night, 
the  glow  of  the  soul's  faith  and  hope  when  visited 
and  encompassed  by  sorrows,  the  image  of  the  fact 
that  night  is  but  shadow,  that  nothing  is  extinguished, 
that  what  goes  will  come,  that  all  sorts  of  nights  are 
extinguished  by  day.  Did  not  Zoroaster  exhibit  ge 
nius  in  making  fire  the  emblem  of  God  ?  for  He 
enlivens  the  universe  by  wisdom  and  love,  as  the 
symbol  enlivens  by  light  and  heat. 


260  RISING   OP    THOUGHT. 

The  growth  of  language,  as  intimated,  implies 
this  ascent  of  the  race  from  facts  and  laws  of  matter 
to  the  higher  and  analogous  verities  of  mind  ;  for, 
as  knowledge  begins  with  material  things  for  their 
objects,  language,  as  the  expression  of  that  know 
ledge,  must  at  first  have  denoted  nothing  more  than 
the  objects  of  sense,  with  the  relations,  qualities,  ac 
tion,  passion,  ends,  and  uses,  which  belong  to  them. 
The  external  world  framed  the  grammar  or  first 
rudiments  of  all  speech.  Things  or  nouns  in  na 
ture  gave  rise  to  nouns  in  speech ;  nor  could  there 
ever  have  been  an  active,  passive,  or  neuter  verb  in 
human  discourse,  except  there  had  been  in  the  world 
of  nature  and  of  man  an  active  agency,  except  there 
had  been  within  the  scope  of  observation  that  which 
acted,  and  that  which  received  the  action  ;  as  also, 
that  which,  neither  active  nor  passive,  is  simply  a 
state  of  being.  No  prepositions  could  have  shown  the 
relations  of  thing  to  thing,  except  as  those  relations 
were  ordained  by  Him  who  has  adjusted  the  matter 
of  space,  and  by  man  who  arranges  the  things  with 
which  he  has  to  do.  There  had  been  no  by,  with,  or 
through,  had  not  the  relations  expressed  by  these 
words  existed  in  space ;  and,  since  these  relations 
and  facts  belonging  to  the  natural  world  are  funda 
mentally  the  same  in  different  ages  and  countries,  it 
follows  that  language  must  everywhere  reveal  similar 
laws.  Hence,  the  many  dialects  and  the  one  lan 
guage  of  the  earth.  But,  from  the  mental  difference 
of  the  nations  and  tribes  to  which  the  dialects  be 
long,  it  cannot  be  supposed,  that  nature  or  any  class 
of  facts  should  strike  them  under  exactly  the  same 


RISING    OF    THOUGHT.  261 

aspects,  and  thereby  produce  the  same  emotions ; 
for  the  genius  of  races  differs  as  widely  as  that  of 
individuals  ;  whilst  the  expression  of  their  thoughts, 
to  be  true  to  their  genius,  requires  a  dialect  for  itself. 
The  aesthetic  soul  of  the  Greek  could  never  have 
been  so  well  expressed  in  the  language  of  the  He 
brew  or  the  Roman. 

Now,  there  is  a  fact  in  this  matter  of  language  as 
common  and  as  new  in  the  experience  of  each  man 
and  woman  of  the  nineteenth  century,  as  it  was  of 
the  most  primitive  age  and  race  of  men.  I  mean  the 
rising  from  the  physical  fact  to  the  mental  reality,  of 
which  that  fact  is  the  sign.  The  word  that  named 
a  sensible  thing,  relation,  or  act,  becomes  the  sign 
for  that  which  cannot  be  seen,  or  tested  by  the 
senses.  Thus  do  all  the  words  that  define  the  know 
ledge  of  the  outward  world  become  the  representa 
tion  of  higher  and  analogous  facts  in  the  mental 
domain.  What,  I  ask,  is  our  first  learning  ?  Are  the 
first  lessons  of  childhood  about  God  as  a  spiritual 
being,  or  about  man  as  a  mental  being  ?  Certainly 
not.  The  first  knowledge  consists  of  original  im 
pressions  of  external  and  sensible  things.  It  is  in 
this  period  of  originality,  that  the  abstract  ideas  of 
size,  distance,  motion,  rest ;  weight,  color,  height, 
and  depth ;  light  and  darkness,  heat  and  cold,  hard 
and  soft,  beauty  and  deformity ;  —  indeed,  all  the 
great  fundamental  impressions  the  material  world 
may  give  them,  dawn  upon  the  mind,  and  become 
the  stejpping-stone  not  only  to  future  natural  sciences, 
but  to  a  higher  order  of  mental  facts,  which  are 
united  to  them  by  analogies  too  subtle  to  admit  of 


262  RISING    OF    THOUGHT. 

plain  definition.  No  school-boy,  perplexed  with  his 
problem,  could  ever  have  pronounced  it  dark,  or 
asked  for  light  understandingly,  except  he  had  first 
learned  the  physical  images,  and  saw  them  as  signs 
of  ignorance  and  knowledge.  Why  should  height 
be  ascribed  to  .great  wisdom  and  virtue  ?  Certainly 
there  is  no  physical  altitude  to  mind  or  character. 
Why  should  the  person  indifferent  in  a  particular 
cause  be  spoken  of  as  cold?  Why  should  our  ab 
stract  idea  of  depth,  of  wideness,  and  of  narrowness, 
be  given  to  certain  minds  ?  To  answer  a  single 
question  of  this  nature  is  but  to  announce  the  great 
law  by  which  language  has  become  expressive  of 
the  world  within  and  of  the  world  without.  This 
duality  in  the  departments  and  uses  of  human  speech 
indicates  the  higher  purposes  of  the  material  world, 
and  announces  the  principle  of  analogy  as  being  that 
by  which  all  material  knowledge  and  impression 
become  the  shadow  of  all  that  pertains  to  the  soul. 

This  similitude  is  boundless,  and  but  few  of  its 
points  are  expressible.  It  must  be  seen,  if  at  all,  as 
we  see  the  shimmering  of  the  air,  or  as  we  catch  the 
expression  of  silence  from  certain  states  of  the  air, 
lowly  murmuring  in  the  autumn  trees  or  on  the  quiet 
of  the  distant  sea.  And  yet  the  principle  by  Avhich 
mankind  weave  these  words  of  physical  origin  into 
the  expression  of  thought  and  feeling,  operates  so 
easily,  that  it  is  to  be  doubted  whether  any  are  con 
scious  of  reasoning  on  their  fitness.  Certainly  more 
gifted  minds,  and  I  should  also  think  that  ever}k order 
of  capacity,  are  in  the  habit  of  using  not  only  the 
words  which  by  long  usage  have  become  exclusively 


RISING    OF    THOUGHT.  263 

the  words  of  thought,  but  those  also  whose  first 
meanings  are  evidently  from  the  material  world,  un 
consciously,  as  the  signs  and  images  of  what  the  heart 
would  express.  So  readily,  indeed,  does  the  mind 
yield  to  this  law  of  similitude  between  the  material 
and  the  spiritual,  that  it  is  unconscious  of  its  own 
processes. 

But  what  does  this  condition  of  language  imply  ? 
Why  is  the  material  so  representative  of  the  mental  ? 
Why  do  the  words  of  things  become  the  words  of 
thoughts,  which  are  not  things,  and  which  have  no 
one  material  property  ?  First,  I  have  said,  because 
the  material  world,  proceeding  from  the  Divine  Mind, 
must  represent  it ;  in  doing  which,  it  must  also  repre 
sent  the  mind  human,  which  is  its  son  and  image. 
But  I  would  add,  that  material  nature,  being  designed 
as  the  school  of  man,  is  formed  to  express  in  its  ana 
logies  the  whole  mind ;  so  that  the  language  which 
is  built  upon  it  at  once  yields  to  a  higher  purpose, 
at  once  comes  up  to  the  mind's  service.  But  nature 
without  is  not  the  only  external  source  of  man's  ut 
terance  ;  for  man  has  a  small  world  which  he  makes. 
His  arts  must  be  named ;  his  modes  of  action  must 
be  expressive.  And  as  the  immediate  world  which 
man  makes  is  necessarily  in  the  image  of  man's 
mind,  whatever  language  may  exist  for  its  expres 
sion  must  also  contain  the  symbols  of  his  spiritual 
life.  Hence,  from  every  art  we  ascend  to  the  artist. 
Hence,  the  many  words  which  at  first  were  founded 
on  mere  external  manner,  and  on  things  of  his  crea 
tion,  that  have  since  become  the  standing  types  of 
his  ideas.  This  theme  might  be  followed  to  any 


264  RISING    OF    THOUGHT. 

extent ;  but  I  would  here  pause  to  say,  that  the  very 
origin  of  human  language  implies  the  transition 
from  matter  to  mind,  on  the  law  of  analogy ;  the 
rising  from  things  that  are  seen  to  those  that  are 
unseen,  —  the  spiritual,  and  to  which  the  materiality 
of  life  and  of  the  universe  conspires. 

But  this  principle  may  be  widely  applied  in  the 
progress  of  man.  He  opens  his  eyes  in  childhood 
on  isolated  facts.  He  sees  as  mere  physical  objects 
the  tree,  hill,  and  fountain  ;  not  perceiving  the  order 
which  unites  the  parts  into  a  whole.  He  discovers 
no  universe.  The  sun  is  but  a  bright  orb,  the  earth 
is  but  land,  the  sea  is  but  water.  But,  in  this  mere 
perception  of  isolated  facts,  the  growing  mind  cannot 
long  remain.  Each  thing  suggests  its  connection 
with  others ;  and  gradually  there  dawns  upon  the  un 
derstanding  the  idea  of  a  general  order,  a  system. 
Facts  reveal  laws  above  themselves,  until  it  is  dis 
covered  that  the  unity  of  a  Divine  wisdom  rules  the 
varied  phenomena  around  us.  At  first,  in  the  glare 
of  the  senses,  no  Divine  presence  is  recognized  in 
nature ;  but,  from  the  body  of  the  visible,  the  mind 
ascends  to  this  view,  to  the  recognition  of  One 
greater  than  earth  and  skies,  and  who  shines  be- 
nignantly  forth  through  all  this  visible  world.  Thus, 
too,  are  we  blind  to  the  end  of  the  material  world, 
so  far  as  it  tends  to  educate  the  intellect  and  the 
moral  feelings.  God  not  only  makes  language  for 
men  through  the  influence  of  the  laws  and  relations 
of  the  world  with  wrhich  he  has  surrounded  them, 
but  he  invigorates  the  whole  mind  through  the  same 
agency.  Nature  is  full  of  science,  of  truth ;  and 


RISING    OF    THOUGHT.  265 

truth  is  the  element  of  mental  power.  The  imagi 
nation  wakes  to  life  under  the  beauty  that  is  spread 
around  us.  Reason  gathers  might  from  the  omni 
present  and  perpetual  connection  of  cause  and  effect. 
Worship  and  conscience  are  addressed  by  the  voices 
of  Divinity  that  are  heard  in  this  temple  of  the  In 
finite.  The  end  of  nature,  though  spiritual  and 
within  ourselves,  is  but  slowly  observed,  as  thought 
ascends  to  the  Infinite  Cause. 

There  is  an  immensity  without.  This  wakes  the 
sense  of  infinitude  within.  The  soul  knows  immen 
sity,  because  it  contains  the  very  germ  of  the  Mind 
that  fills  it.  Order  reigns  without.  And  does  not 
this  order,  which  surrounds  all,  impress  order  on  all  ? 
No  soul  can  utter  itself  without  symbols.  Mountains 
must  stand  for  a  sublime  firmness ;  storms  and  dark 
ness  must  emblem  the  passionate  rage,  the  vicious 
aim,  and  the  deep  woe.  Flowers,  smiling  in  the 
forest-shades  and  from  the  mountain's  side,  willingly 
become  the  words  of  our  affections.  The  quietude 
of  the  landscape,  the  calm  surface  of  deep  waters, 
the  soft,  cloudless  skies,  are  words  that  express  the 
spirit-rest.  Swedenborg  said  that  the  animal  king 
dom  is  representative  of  human  affections.  I  ask, 
what  kingdom  is  not  representative  of  man  ?  from 
what  does  he  not  draw,  in  unfolding  the  various 
action  of  his  mind  ?  All  are  his  tributaries.  But 
we  know  the  symbols  first ;  then  we  ascend  to  the 
thoughts  for  which  they  stand.  Thus  the  hearer  of 
parables  penetrated  the  imagery,  until  he  found  what 
is  greater,  —  the  truths  intended. 

There  is  no  end  to  nature's  symbolism.     "  The 

23 


266  RISING    OF    THOUGHT. 

lion  is  alone."  The  strong  man  has  not  lost  his  para 
dise,  though  what  is  called  society  utterly  forsake 
him.  The  eagle  wings  his  mighty  way  somewhat 
solitarily,  asking  not  the  companionship  of  large  num 
bers.  He  knows  his  competency.  Why  should  a 
great  mind  seek  shelter  under  societies  ?  What 
storm  should  he  fear  who  may  rise  above  all  storms  ? 
Rely  on  yourself  awhile  longer :  when  the  tempest 
descends,  it  shall  aid  your  flight.  The  lamb  and 
dove  are  associative,  are  to  us  innocence  and  gentle 
ness.  But  who  would  not  rather  be  eagle  than 
dove  ? 

Water,  it  is  said,  is  the  symbol  of  truth.  Its  foun 
tains,  one  might  say,  are  more  strictly  original 
minds,  bursting  forth  clearly  and  freely.  Truth  is 
as  the  waters,  not  only  from  its  beauty,  its  purity, 
and  refreshing  qualities,  but  from  its  depth,  vastness 
and  eternity. 

"  Time  writes  no  wrinkle  on  thine  azure  brow  : 
Such  as  creation's  dawn  beheld,  thou  rollest  now  !  " 

How  many  theories  of  costly  labor  have  sailed  on 
the  fathomless  deep  of  truth !  How  many  have  per 
ished  among  its  breakers  !  Your  creeds  and  philo 
sophies,  built  like  mighty  ships,  wear  but  a  time 
among  these  merciless  waves.  Let  them  perish : 
the  sea  is  full,  and  better  builders  will  come.  The 
soul,  like  its  Author,  "  glasses  itself  in  tempests." 
There  is  not  a  darkness  of  heaven,  a  violence  of 
elements,  a  lightning-stroke  of  terror,  which  does  not 
fit  some  mood  or  state  of  man.  His  revolutions  are 
often  as  these.  The  sun  is  eclipsed  :  so,  indeed,  the 


RISING    OF    THOUGHT.  267 

light  within  thee  is  darkness  at  times,  and  the  great 
est  truths  are  hidden. 

Our  philosophies  and  theologies  do  not  take  nature 
sufficiently  as  a  model.  One  gathers  and  gives  you 
only  the  flowers  of  the  universe.  It  is  enough  that 
one  is  pleased,  that  life  is  pleasant !  "  How  beautiful 
is  this !  How  nice  and  how  pretty  is  that !  "  And 
here  ends  the  seeking.  But  are  our  teachers  only  to 
collect  sunbeams,  and  to  braid  bouquets  for  ladies 
and  gentlemen  to  smell  of,  to  admire  ?  Better  far  look 
back  to  the  well-poised  agencies  of  the  universe  for 
a  lesson.  What  mean  these  vast  and  solemn  moun 
tains  ;  these  huge  and  massive  rocks ;  these  thun 
der-voiced  cataracts;  these  tumultuous  seas;  these 
sweeping  storms;  these  sombre  hues;  these  thun 
der-peals  ?  Is  all  nature  a  sunbeam,  a  bouquet  ? 
Who  can  bend  one  iota  the  inflexibility  of  natural 
law  ?  All  these  graceful  agencies  have  a  fixed  sov 
ereignty,  which  they  never  let  go.  The  universe  will 
do  you  little  good,  except  you  are  recipient  of  its 
various  influences.  The  thunder  of  Edwards  is 
worth  a  million  of  many  dove-like  divines.  If  a 
man  will  have  nature  for  his  symbol  of  character, 
there  will  be  power  in  him ;  there  will  be  rocks  as 
well  as  dahlias. 

This  day  is  new  and  whole.  The  life  of  this  green 
leaf  is  original,  having  never  existed  before.  There 
is  no  patching  in  any  natural  work.  All  is  new  and 
entire.  But  our  best  works  are  fractions,  not  com 
plete  and  rounded  unities.  The  firmness  of  nature 
is  read  in  every  natural  law.  But  over  this  firmness 
reposes  a  bending  ease,  a  grace  of  beauty,  which  is 


268  RISING    OF    THOUGHT. 

the  true  type  of  all  genuine  will  in  character.  The 
constellated  worlds  above  us  are  a  society  of  stars. 
The  social  law  is  imaged  in  the  heavens.  Good 
men  are  stars.  They  form  society,  though  each 
member  is  rightly  distanced.  A  single  truth  attracts 
other  truths,  till  there  is  a  constellation  of  truths.  Is 
not  autumn,  with  its  faded  leaves  and  golden  fruit, 
in  every  man's  experience  ?  Who  knows  not  the 
higher  fact  which  "  gentle  spring,"  with  the  "  ethereal 
mildness,"  indicates  ?  Poisons  are  sweet  in  the  moral 
world,  as  truly  as  in  the  natural.  The  light  the  eye 
receives  so  unconsciously,  and  which  dances  in  the 
diamond's  heart,  is  as  the  Divine  agency,  entering 
the  spirit,  and  radiating  every  transparent  character. 
Every  spiritual  fact  in  the  universe  is  dimly  sha 
dowed  by  what  the  senses  know. 

But  let  us  proceed  to  speak  of  man  in  his  life  and 
history.  How  dead  his  life  is,  when  its  facts  are  only 
viewed  as  details  !  How  wonderful  when  contem 
plated  as  the  product  of  the  emanating  cause  !  Na 
ture  points  to  him  as  to  a  greater,  and  he  to  God,  who 
is  All.  Each  action  in  life  points  to  character,  there 
by  lifting  a  finger  to  that  which  is  higher  than  itself. 
So,  indeed,  do  the  words,  plans,  struggles  of  men 
point  to  a  higher  wisdom  than  the  actors  knew. 
Always  have  these  conflicts  tended  to  nobler  ends 
than  men  designed.  Small  things  reveal  a  charac 
ter, —  even  a  laugh,  a  word,  a  look.  The  apple, 
through  Newton's  genius,  pointed  up  to  distant 
worlds,  and  suggested  the  principle  which  guided 
them  in  their  course.  Nothing  is  so  local  as  not  to 
contain  a  universal.  The  thistle  and  the  shell  own 


RISING    OF    THOUGHT.  269 

the  presence  of  universal  law,  as  truly  as  do  the 
solar  systems. 

At  first  we  began  with  the  world's  facts,  very 
much  as  -with  those  of  material  nature.  We  saw 
them  as  isolated.  To  us  there  was  no  Providence, 
as  in  nature  there  was  no  universe.  Man  died :  a 
kingdom  fell.  These  appeared  as  without  purpose 
and  meaning.  Events  were  order  less.  But  we  gra 
dually  emerged  from  these  single  and  isolated  views 
to  discover  that  circumstances  are  a  chain  ;  that  they 
fall  into  a  system  of  cause  and  effect,  as  harmoni 
ously  as  the  various  parts  of  the  earth  conspire  to 
form  a  globe.  We  saw  justice  wrought  out  in  many 
events.  Wisdom  gleamed  out  of  what  had  seemed 
as  dark  before.  Good  sprung  up  from  evil  before 
our  eyes.  We  saw  fraud  and  justice  working  out 
opposite  results.  We  saw  that  evil  was  reaped  where 
evil  was  sown,  and  so  of  good.  From  the  page  of 
history  we  learned  that  one  stage  of  human  life 
prepared  for  another ;  that  God  presides  over  this 
world's  changes ;  and  that  the  end  of  all  this  various 
course  of  Providence,  by  which  humanity  is  enlight 
ened,  encouraged,  baffled,  and  checked,  is  like  that 
of  the  all-surrounding  universe  within  ourselves.  It 
is  the  spiritual  self-development  at  which  all  things 
aim.  But  this  view  comes  not  at  first.  We  climbed 
to  it,  step  by  step,  beginning  in  the  systemless  facts 
of  our  observation,  and  rising  gradually  to  the  vast 
idea  of  God  over  all.  This  suggestion  of  what  is 
greater  than  itself,  in  the  present  instance,  though 
not  apparently  founded  on  analogy,  illustrates  the 

23* 


270  RISING    OF    THOUGHT. 

tendency  of  the  facts  of  observation  to  unfold  the 
great  principles  whicK  govern  them. 

Our  first  self- consciousness  discloses  us  to  our 
selves  as  merely  animal  beings.  We  conceived  of 
our  kind  as  living  bodies,  before  we  thought  of  them 
as  living  souls.  Physiognomy  reveals  what  is  great 
er,  —  the  mind,  the  character.  What  was  the  first 
idea  of  power  that  dawned  upon  us  ?  Was  it  the 
power  that  philosophers,  poets,  and  prophets,  wield  ? 
No :  it  was  mere  muscular  force,  mere  material 
energy.  This  we  first  knew  as  our  own  possession, 
as  the  attribute  of  strength  in  others.  But  from  this 
coarser  fact,  we  rose  to  the  perception  of  the  power 
of  mind,  —  of  wisdom,  courage,  virtue.  Why  ma 
terial  energy  should  necessarily  go  before  the  percep 
tion  of  meatal,  it  is  needless  to  inquire ;  but  nothing 
is  more  certain  than  the  fact ;  and  few  things  are 
more  probable  than  that  the  influence  of  the  various 
material  energies  displayed  in  nature  around  us 
serve  to  call  out  the  inward  energies  of  the  soul. 
Life,  in  each  and  all  of  its  forms,  is  mystery.  Our 
first  notion  of  it  is  as  animal  and  vegetable ;  but  the 
beautiful  and  animating  mystery  is  not  alone.  It 
becomes  the  symbolic  shadow  of  spiritual  life  ;  whilst 
all  its  fostering  influences  are  types  of  higher  agencies 
by  which  the  life  of  the  spirit  grows.  Slowly  do 
we  learn  that  the  sacred  urns  contain  only  the  clay 
tenements  of  departed  friends,  and  nothing  of  their 
real  selves.  At  first  we  view  mankind  as  animals  ; 
we  view  them  as  we  did  the  outward  world,  without 
perceiving  the  wonderful  order  there  organically  dis 
played,  without  viewing  the  fleshly  structures  as  the 


RISING    OF    THOUGHT,  271 

Servants  and  temples  of  immortal  natures.  But  such 
is  the  order  of  life's  lessons,  that  the  race,  finding  a 
spiritual  development  higher  than  the  muscular,  be 
comes  conscious  of  the  soul's  supremacy. 

I  have  often  used  the  word  spirit  in  the  course  of 
these  remarks,  as  meaning  the  mind,  the  immortal, 
unseen  part.  But  the  history  of  this  word  embodies 
the  view  I  have  been  trying  to  unfold,  that  the  whole 
structure  of  things,  the  entire  genius  of  the  condition 
of  man,  tends  to  lead  him  upward,  from  less  to 
greater,  from  fact  to  principle,  from  thing  to  thought. 
The  original  meaning  of  this  term  is,  the  air  we 
breathe.  Pneuma  primarily  meant  only  this.  How 
naturally  this  became  the  symbol  of  mind,  being  an 
invisible  element,  an  inspiration  of  life,  a  free  and 
unconfined  agent !  But  we  have  finally  rested  on 
the  greater ;  so  that  the  spirit  is  always  our  diviner 
part.  Paradise  was  once  but  a  fine  garden  of  Persia ; 
now  it  is  the  joy  of  the  sainted.  Rectitude  at  first 
was  only  physical  straightness  ;  now  it  is  morai  hon 
esty.  Beauty  at  first  was  but  a  sensuous  charm ; 
now  it  is  mind  perfected  :  it  is  a  heart-radiance  from 
conduct  and  speech.  Always  has  man  been  rising 
slowly  above  the  despotism  of  matter. 

Religious  revelations  to  our  race  unfold  the  same 
view.  The  moment  we  attempt  to  analyze  our  views, 
we  are  carried  back  to  their  physical  bases,  and  are 
obliged  to  learn,  that  the  primary  development  of 
the  soul,  under  the  impressions  of  material  nature, 
has  prepared  in  us  our  whole  receptive  capacity  for 
what  God  communicates.  What,  I  ask,  was  our  pri 
mary  idea  of  heaven  ?  Was  it  not  the  caelum,  the 


272  RISING    OF   THOUGHT. 

ouranos  of  our  physical  vision,  —  the  clear,  calm, 
blue  skies  above  us?  Whence  came  our  abstract 
view  of  purity  and  purification  ?  They  doubtless 
referred  to  external  cleanliness  and  ablution.  The 
same  may  be  said  of  all  our  highest  views.  Indeed, 
revelations  are  impossible,  except  on  the  ground  here 
assumed.  How  am  I  to  conceive  of  infinity  as  be 
longing  to  God,  unless  the  Illimitable  impresses  me 
from  nature  ?  How  am  I  to  know  Divine  Love, 
except  I  have  affection  in  my  own  heart,  by  which  to 
know  it  ?  And  was  not  this  primary  love  called 
forth  by  many  external  relations,  influences,  and 
objects  ?  As  well  might  you  exhort  the  rocks  to  fly, 
as  humanity  to  ascend  to  the  comprehension  of  these 
high  realities,  without  the  preparatory  aid  of  natural 
things.  Nature  must  lend  her  symbols  and  her  early 
teachings,  or  God  himself  cannot  speak  to  the  race. 
That  which  is  unknown  can  only  reach  us  through 
that  which  is  known  ;  nor  can  any  power  break  over 
the  permanence  and  eternity  of  this  law. 

Go  for  a  moment  into  the  past.  There  you  meet 
different  forms  and  dispensations  of  religion,  con 
vincing  you  that  the  earlier  the  worship,  the  more 
of  visible  imagery  does  it  wear.  The  senses  are 
addressed.  The  material  glares  upon  you.  Altars, 
victims,  and  priests,  mercy-seats  and  cherubims, 
divers  washings  and  external  atonements  in  abund 
ance,  greet  you.  The  gold  of  the  temple  is  sacred. 
Deity  is  portrayed  under  the  strongest  imagery,  and 
worshipped  under  the  view  chiefly  of  his  Almighti- 
ness.  But  as  you  watch  the  stream  of  sacred  know 
ledge,  as  it  flows  down  to  later  times,  you  discover 


RISING    OF    THOUGHT. 

that  a  spiritual  element  gets  the  great  ascendency. 
The  Bible,  which  began  in  history,  ended  in  the 
finer  element  of  prophecy.  The  sacrifice  became 
finally  a  broken  heart  and  a  contrite  spirit,  not  a 
bleeding  victim.  Behold  the  contrast !  The  Thun 
derer  and  Judge  of  ancient  time  is  clothed  with  the 
name  and  attributes  of  the  Father,  —  is  Love,  is 
Goodness !  Compare  the  Beatitudes  of  the  Sermon 
on  the  Mount  with  the  temporal  rewards  and  pun 
ishments  of  the  Jewish  hope  and  fear.  Once  the 
kingdom  of  heaven  was  as  Caesar's  dominion  in  tem 
porality  and  earthliness ;  now  it  is  righteousness  and 
peace  enthroned  in  all.  Israel  was  once  a  union  of 
distinctive  tribes ;  now  he  is  all  who  love  God  on 
the  face  of  the  whole  earth.  Jerusalem  once  was 
but  the  metropolis  of  Judea ;  now  she  is  the  church 
of  the  First-born,  whose  citizens  are  all  the  good 
and  the  faithful.  The  great  Adam  was  once  but  a 
"  living  soul ;  "  now  he  is  the  "  quickening  spirit,"  * 
the  great  moral  regenerator,  the  love-kindling  energy 
of  the  whole  earth.  Moses  enacted  and  legislated  ; 
Jesus  spake  words  of  spirit  and  life  to  ages.  Sacri 
fices  no  more  bleed  in  the  hands  of  the  priest ;  but 
all  are  priests,  and  all  are  invited  to  make  themselves 
a  holy  offering  to  God,  to  Deity.  Neighbor  and 
brother  once  signified  those  who  were  of  the  same 
tribe  and  family,  those  who  were  by  affinity  near  in 
place,  and  in  consanguineous  ties ;  now  the  race  are 
neighbors  and  brothers.  Salvation  was  once  an 
outward,  whilst  now  it  is  an  inward  deliverance. 

*  1  Cor.  xv.  45. 


274  RISING    OF    THOUGHT. 

Truly  were  the  old  ways  but  types  and  shadows,  — 
mere  similitudes  of  the  greater  and  the  better  in 
advance ! 

Indeed,  all  things  are  as  in  this  Jewish  ritual. 
The  human  heart  is  always  predicting  a  better  day. 
Far  away  in  some  good  to-morrow  waits  the  perfect 
lot.     It  always  says,  "  There  is  a  better ;  I  wait  a 
brighter  morning."     The  best  hours  ever  enjoyed 
prophesied  still  better.     Perhaps  each  man  living  is 
conscious  of  a  latent  trust  that  he  shall  be  much 
more  of  a  man  by  and  by  than  he  is  now.     Our 
small  truths  are  always  leading  to  greater  truths. 
Our  incipient  vices  and  virtues  are  ever  leading  to 
those  greater.     Goodness,  though  imperfect  now, 
bravely  predicts  its  heaven.     Great  men  never  think 
that  human  nature  has  invested  all  its  might  in  them, 
but  earnestly  believe  in  wiser  and  abler  ones  to  come. 
From  the  heart  of  the  life  that  now  is  springs  up  the 
desire  and  assurance   of  a  greater.     This   natural 
world  points  to  a  spiritual  world.     Nature  bows  in 
homage  to  man,  reproducing  her  skill  in  his  mind ; 
whilst  man,  in  his  nature,  dependence,  and  hope, 
points  to  Him  who  is  above  all  and  in  all.     When 
ever  we  follow  the  known  to  its  utmost  extent,  it 
leads  us  to  the  verge  of  the  unknown,  where  vast 
shadowing  mysteries  darken  all  before  us.     What 
are  our  best  ideas  ?     Are  they  so  good  that  they  will 
never  give  place  to  better  ?     Has   there  been  no 
progress  ?     Did  King  David  understand  diplomacy 
better  than  Lord  Brougham?     Was  the  ship  that 
carried  the  apostle  to  Melita  a  better  ship  than  the 
"  Oregon"  or  the  "  Pennsylvania  ?  " 


RISING   OF    THOUGHT.  275 

There  are  beautiful  mythologies  that  yield  higher 
views  than  their  framers  intended.  Those  gods  and 
goddesses  of  Greece,  the  deified  men  and  women  of 
that  country,  suggest  the  actual  glorification  that 
awaits  virtue.  History  is  letter  and  spirit.  There  is 
great  use  for  facts  and  dates ;  but  who  knows  Rome, 
Greece,  and  England,  without  penetrating  into  the 
genius,  spirit,  and  character  of  each  ? 

It  is  high  time  that  the  old  quarrel  between  mate 
rialism  and  spiritualism  was  ended.  There  is  truth  in 
each  philosophy :  there  is  a  materialism  and  a  spirit 
ualism  that  harmonize  as  soul  and  body  in  one  man, 
as  God  and  nature  in  one  universe.  God  is  a  spirit ; 
but  he  is  present  in  all  matter,  and  there  is  no  antag 
onism  between  the  two.  The  assertion  that  soul  is 
but  matter,  or  the  result  of  its  organization,  has  never 
taken  a  lasting  hold  on  any  great  number,  because  it 
is  opposed  by  what  is  deeper  than  argument  in  their 
own  consciousness.  No  teacher  standing  on  such  a 
basis  has  left  any  very  deep  traces  in  the  science  of 
intellect,  ethics,  and  religion.  On  the  other  hand, 
those  spiritualists  who  would,  in  their  ethereal  revels, 
forget  that  men  have  bodies,  are  as  unsatisfactory  as 
the  most  plodding  of  the  materialists.  The  saint 
erred  who  said,  "  How  I  despise  the  earth,  when  I 
think  of  heaven !  "  For  both  earth  and  heaven  are 
of  One,  and  harmonize  as  parts  of  a  complete  bene 
volence. 

The  materialism  of  man  and  nature  is  both  moral 
and  intellectual.  We  have  seen  how  it  contributes 
to  create  language,  to  furnish  mind  with  vehicles  of 
thought,  to  symbolize  the  various  moods,  actions,  and 


276  RISING    OF    THOUGHT. 

wants.  To  us  it  seems  that  every  fibre  of  matter  is 
exerted  in  serving  mind.  The  whole  system  is  so 
woven  that  it  silently  labors  to  this  end.  Everywhere 
is  the  material  world  a  spiritual  ministry.  So  infi 
nite,  so  complex,  are  the  laws,  forms,  facts,  and 
agencies  in  space,  that  they  are  representatively 
equal  to  all  the  soul  contains,  and  therefore  fitted  to 
render  it  a  great  service.  I  would  deny  material 
ism  only  when  assumed  as  the  basis  and  master  of 
psychology :  as  servant  to  the  spiritual,  there  is  a 
high  place  for  it  to  occupy.  As  minds  should  gov 
ern  bodies,  as  God  governs  matter,  and  as  the  sky 
of  stars  and  ether  over-arch  the  earth,  so  should  a 
spiritual  philosophy  hold  dominion  over  the  neces 
sary  materialism  of  human  nature,  and  of  the  life 
we  live.  If  we  deny  that  the  mind  is  the  first  fact, 
we  slay  ourselves ;  for  it  is  mind  that  makes  the 
denial,  and  that  rules  the  materialism  of  being.  Mind 
rules  the  universe,  and  it  governs  man. 

It  brings  more  wealth  to  us  to  find  nature  alive 
with  thought,  and  full  of  teaching.  It  is  good  to  rise 
heavenward,  when  God  gives  us  wings.  Great  mys 
tery  doubtless  presses  on  the  final  end.  But  to  me 
this  great  world  of  facts  seems  as  an  infinite  number 
of  guide-boards,  telling  the  meditative  pilgrim  that 
the  cities  of  his  seeking  are  still  miles  ahead.  Do 
these  myriad  fingers  beckon  us  on  to  nothing  ?  Nay ; 
not  one  deceives. 


277 


THE  INFINITE  HARMONY. 


"  God  is  one."  —  ST.  PAUL. 
"  Nature  is  an  infinitely  divided  God."  —  SCHILLER. 


IN  the  idea  of  Divine  Harmony,  I  would  include  all 
things ;  for  all  things  in  some  way  unfold  it.  There 
are  moments  in  which  all  time,  life,  and  nature  seem 
as  one  anthem,  whose  unwritten  music  the  heart 
would  sing.  We  rise  at  times  into  the  universal 
concord,  and  feel  the  unity  of  all  our  powers,  of 
God,  and  of  all  his  ways.  A  sense  of  this  harmony 
pervades  every  deep  and  serene  joy.  All  revelations 
of  happiness  within  us,  all  the  divine  aspiration  and 
prospect  of  man,  are  its  utterance.  Every  painful 
sensation,  growing  out  of  the  relative  unfitness  of 
things,  attests  its  inward  supremacy ;  but  for  which 
no  discords  could  ever  offend  us.  Even  in  sorrow's 
plaintive  voice,  this  sense  is  beautifully  eloquent.  I 
look  upon  this  sense,  so  divine  in  its  origin  and  so 
universal  in  its  influence,  as  one  of  nature's  grandest 
prophecies  of  future  good,  as  one  of  its  clearest 
indications  that  life  is  tending  to  an  ultimatum,  to 
which  the  present  harmony  of  soul  and  nature  is  but 
the  becoming  prelude.  I  would  therefore  seek  to 
24 


THE    INFINITE    HARMONY. 

develop  this  idea,  and  place  it  before  you  through 
its  various  manifestations. 

There  must  be  a  science  to  this  theme  :  there  are 
unchanging,  eternal  principles  on  which  it  rests. 
To  these  let  us  give  some  thought,  since  they  aid 
us  as  premises  for  future  conclusions. 

The  first  idea  in  this  science  is  necessarily  the  in 
nate  harmony  of  mind,  but  for  which  nothing  within 
the  range  of  the  harmonious  could  ever  be  known. 
Education  is  but  development,  and  development 
implies  the  previous  being  of  that  which  is  devel 
oped.  Both  body  and  mind  have  their  particular 
order  of  powers,  each  undeveloped  at  first ;  and,  as 
the  refined  organism  is  an  harmonious  arrangement 
of  the  physical  powers,  so  is  the  constitution  of  mind 
a  harmony  of  undeveloped  faculties.  Why  does  the 
song  delight  the  untaught  spirit  of  the  child  ?  Be 
cause  the  harmony  of  sounds  sinks  down  into  its 
harmony  of  powers.  The  soul  is  a  harmony  of 
powers,  though,  in  consequence  of  its  imperfect  and 
partial  development,  that  harmony  is  not  manifested 
'in  perfect  beauty;  though  it  is  proper  to  admit, 
that  by  nature  we  widely  differ  in  our  capacity  to 
perceive  and  feel  the  accordant  as  revealed  in  all 
ihings  around  us.  There  are  some  noble  natures 
who  seem,  more  than  others,  to  be  born  of  that 
Spirit  which  works  all  things  into  accordant  relations, 
which  so  created  worlds  as  to  make  the  universe  a 
hymn  and  a  praise.  The  harmony  of  the  Divine 
Mind  is  native  and  eternal.  Man  and  the  universe 
are  its  manifestations.  The  harmony  of  the  soul 
human  is  native,  but  eternal  only  in  reference  to  the 


THE    INFINITE    HARMONY.  279 

future.  The  position  assumed  in  relation  to  the  soul 
is  invulnerable,  so  long  as  education  is  not  creation, 
which  it  never  can  become. 

The  science  of  the  universal  harmony  I  have 
found  in  the  soul.  Here  are  all  its  elements.  No 
thing  new  can  be  added  from  abroad.  But,  to  bring 
out  this,  we  must  look  to  the  developing  means, 
among  which,  we  may  say,  this  whole  visible  world, 
from  first  to  last,  subserves  this  end.  What  do  all 
perceive  when  the  senses  open  to  this  outward 
world  ?  Universally  they  are  impressed  by  an  all- 
surrounding  harmony.  All  nature  is  harmony,  being 
pervaded  by  the  One  Perfect  Mind,  in  which  discords 
are  impossible.  What  are  cause  and  effect,  which 
bind  together  all  things  into  system,  but  harmony  ? 
Are  they  not  uniform,  various,  and  constant  ?  In 
nature  there  is  an  omnipresence  of  order  and  of  law. 
But  what  is  order,  and  what  is  law,  but  the  expression 
of  the  universal  harmony  of  things  ?  What  else  is 
beauty,  as  it  comes  in  the  dawn  of  day,  in  the  glow 
of  sunset,  in  the  human  form,  in  the  flower-bearing 
earth,  and  the  star-glowing  skies  ?  All  things  are  its 
ministers  ;  all  the  laws  and  agencies  of  nature,  work 
ing  in  concord,  enliven  the  native  sense  within  us.  The 
myriad-voices  of  variously-gifted  birds  and  insects,  in 
whose  anthem  there  are  no  discords,  and,  above 
all,  the  music-eloquence  of  human  voices,  bring  out, 
expand,  refine,  and  invigorate  the  natural  conscious 
ness  of  harmony.  Truth  and  love  are  accordant 
sentiments.  These  are  wrought  into  all  things : 
they  live,  they  shine,  in  the  particle  as  in  the  world. 
Two  ideas,  therefore,  give  us  the  philosophy  of  the 


280  THE    INFINITE    HARMONY. 

harmonious  in  man :  first,  the  natural  harmony  of 
the  soul ;  and,  second,  the  harmony  of  the  outward 
universe,  which  sheds  its  perpetual  influence  on 
mind.  In  other  words,  the  harmony  of  the  Divine 
Mind  is  embodied  in  nature,  and  gives  its  influence  ; 
and  the  soul,  being  formed  after  the  divine  likeness, 
has  in  its  powers  a  measure  of  that  harmony  whence 
nature  sprung,  and  is  thereby  adapted  to  receive  its 
aid. 

By  harmony,  of  course,  I  mean  not  the  limited 
ability  to  give  out  the  music  of  sounds  ;  I  use  it  in 
the  widest  possible  sense,  taking,  if  you  please,  the 
richest  strains  of  vocal  music  which  wake  the  heaven 
of  concord  in  the  human  breast,  as  the  symbol  of 
the  soul's  unfolding  ability  to  hear  and  enjoy  the 
infinite  song  of  God,  Nature,  Providence,  and  Hu 
manity,  as  the  ceaseless  ages  turn  off  its  sacred 
music  for  us.  My  idea  is  the  universal  concord 
which  all  things,  in  different  ways,  are  yielding. 

I  would  now  more  definitely  and  particularly 
revert  to  nature,  whose  laws  never  clash,  but  operate 
in  unbroken  union  for  ever.  Spoken  of  as  a  whole, 
it  is  a  harmony  of  particles,  which  are  appropriately 
kept  in  friendly  union  by  the  universal  power  of 
attraction.  But  this  power  is  not  alone.  If  it  were, 
it  would  draw  all  substances  into  one  common  mass, 
and  thus  destroy  the  identity  of  all  things.  Against 
this  result  there  is  grand  provision  in  that  law  by 
which  attraction  itself  between  different  bodies  be 
comes  repulsion.  Thus  the  sun  draws  the  earth 
some  three  millions  of  miles  nearer  to  himself  at 
one  time  than  it  is  at  other  times;  yet  there  is  a 


THE    INFINITE    HARMONY. 

point  when  the  same  power  which  has  attracted,  also 
repels,  thus  preserving  the  harmony  of  worlds.  The 
timid  have  feared  the  return  of  comets,  lest  some 
clashing  against  our  earth  spoil  us  of  its  fair  face  and 
treasures.  All  such  fears  are  founded  in  an  ignorance 
of  this  one  conservative  power  in  nature,  —  that  dis 
creet  repulsion,  at  certain  points  of  union,  which 
shall  for  ever  preserve  the  safety  of  all  planets,  how 
ever  often  they  approximate  through  the  social 
energy  of  attractive  force.  The  planets  and  the 
comets  are  like  the  true  nobles  of  the  earth  in  this, 
that,  while  the  social  power  draws  near,  it  repels 
when  nearness  is  too  near :  thus  a  becoming  dignity 
is  preserved.  One  force  would  carry  the  world 
straightforward  in  the  heavens,  whilst  another  ar 
rests  that  onwardness ;  so  that,  by  the  antagonism 
of  the  two,  the  orbit  is  produced.  Thus  the  princi 
ples  of  harmony  are  everywhere  sown.  The  rose, 
the  thistle,  and  the  thorn  will  be  themselves.  Each 
takes  from  nature  what  it  wants,  and  returns  it  again 
in  due  time.  True,  the  sea  roars,  the  whirlwinds 
play  in  terrible  sport,  the  lightnings  flash  in  angry 
violence,  blowing  great  trumpets  in  the  skies :  these 
are  but  certain  thrilling  notes,  perhaps  a  lively  chorus 
in  the  vast  concord.  Nature  is  a  harp,  not  of  a 
thousand,  but  of  ten  limes  ten  thousand  strings,  not 
one  of  which  can  be  struck,  without  yielding  har 
mony.  The  discords  are  in  our  ears,  not  in  nature. 
The  great  soul  feels  the  harmony  of  all  things,  —  of 
mountains,  deserts,  cataracts,  whirlwinds,  and  mael 
stroms,  as  well  as  of  the  plain,  the  meadow,  the 
violet,  and  calm-flowing  fountain. 

24* 


THE    INFINITE    HARMONY. 

But  let  us  come  to  our  individual  lives;  let  us 
penetrate  our  own  experience.  We  often  speak  of 
the  folly  of  past  days,  and  we  speak  well :  we  wisely 
mourn  the  misspent  hours,  and  weep  over  the  sins 
which  have  betrayed  us.  This  is  right:  the  sane 
should  weep  over  all  follies  and  sins.  Yet  I  call  it 
harmony  when  I  see  the  past  yielding  its  legitimate 
fruit ;  it  is  harmony  that  an  acorn  should  grow  an 
oak,  that  a  crab-apple  seed  should  produce  a  crab- 
apple  tree.  It  would  be  fundamental  discord  to 
gather  grapes  from  thorns,  or  figs  from  thistles.  In 
the  past,  the  seeds  of  sentiment  and  conduct  were 
sown ;  and  each  of  us,  this  hour,  is  the  harvest,  the 
true,  legitimate  harvest,  of  that  past.  Every  thought 
and  action  has  had  its  tendency ;  and  all  these  par 
ticulars  unite  to  form  our  present  selves,  as  harmoni 
cally  as  the  infinitude  of  particles  unite  to  form  a 
world.  There  is  nothing  so  random  as  not  to  come 
in.  Can  we  not  see  in  the  influences  of  infancy, 
childhood,  youth,  and  the  mature  man,  the  same 
accordant  relation  as  we  find  in  spring,  summer, 
autumn,  and  winter  ?  That  which  unites  the  several 
stages  of  life  is  as  inviolably  law  as  that  which  con 
nects  the  ever-revolving  seasons.  Retribution  is 
perfect,  speaking  truth  and  right  through  all  the 
windings  of  human  destiny,  proving  again  and  again 
that  wrongs  and  follies  are  duly  avenged.  "  What 
soever  a  man  soweth,  that  shall  he  also  reap."  This, 
through  all  worlds,  is  the  true  retributive  law ;  and 
this  is  harmony,  even  when  its  agencies  are  most 
terrific. 

Passing  from  our  personal  experience,  which  holds 


THE    INFINITE    HARMONY. 


283 


all  the  elements  in  a  limited  sphere  which  enter  into 
the  world's  history,  let  us  glance  at  the  harmony  of 
the  ages.     The  world  has  long  existed,  and  each 
epoch  has  had  its  proper  place.     No  age   of  the 
world  has,  in  its  influence  and  meaning,  been  iso 
lated  from  the  rest,  any  more  than  spring  is  isolated 
from  summer,  or  the  island  from  the  system  of  nature 
to  which  it  belongs.     The  ages  are  a  brotherhood 
of  influence,  as   the  worlds  are  a  brotherhood  of 
nature.     Contemplating  history  as  the  development 
of  man,  this  induction  is  inevitable,  since  man  is 
progressive,  and  in  some  way  always  subject  to  law, 
from  which  he  cannot  abrogate  himself  if  he  would. 
Viewing  the  past  as  a  manifestation  of  the  Divine 
wisdom  and  goodness,  so  far  as  it  reveals  the  active 
presence  of  God,  the  same  conclusion  follows ;  since 
God  always  works  to  order,  since  there  is  connec 
tion  in  all  his  ways,  and  since  he  aims  to  carry 
forward  his  work  towards  perfection.    What  is  more 
apparent  than  that  the  three  great  epochs  of  human 
civilization  are  harmoniously  united ;  that  is  to  say, 
that  the  East,  which  nursed  the  arts,  is  united  to 
Greece  and  Rome  as  closely  as  childhood  to  youth, 
and  these  as  intimately  united  to  the  modern  civili 
zation  as  youth  to  manhood  ?     What  are  our  best 
religious  ideas  ?   What  our  happiest  architecture  and 
our  best  jurisprudence  ?     Could  we  have  grasped 
the  perfection  we  now  command  in  these  depart 
ments,  if  Rome,  Greece,  and  India  had  not  gone 
before  us  ?     Could  they  have  gained  what  they  did, 
without  the  stepping-stone  of  previous  times  on  which 
to  stand.     It  is  evident  that  they  could  not. 


284  THE    INFINITE   HARMONY. 

It  is  true,  my  friends,  we  discover  great  errors, 
and,  what  is  worse,  great  wrongs,  in  the  past.  War, 
slavery,  superstition,  lust,  and  blood  stain  its  page ; 
yet  I  hold  it  harmony,  when  I  see  its  rightful  retri 
butions  wrought  out ;  the  corrupt  monarch  fallen ; 
the  iniquitous  nation  scourged ;  that  which  was  the 
truer  for  the  day  gaining  its  conquest ;  cause  and 
effect  playing  their  part  in  the  drama  of  ages,  as 
fairly  and  as  truly  as  in  the  formation  of  soils  or  the 
vegetations  of  nature.  The  destinies  of  nations  have 
been  wrought  by  a  logical  hand ;  for,  though  men 
freely  throw  in  their  conduct  as  premises,  that  which 
is  higher  than  their  designings  draws  out  the  con 
clusions,  and  never  falsely.  Even  the  waves  of  the 
sea  pass  on  in  order ;  nor  are  the  waves  of  time, 
however  dark  and  mountainous,  without  it.  They 
lash  the  shores  and  dash  upon  the  rock  with  the  same 
wild  beauty,  and  send  forth  their  voices  into  present 
time,  waking  still  the  harmony  of  souls.  Despise 
not  the  past,  for  it  is  omnipresent ;  it  is  all  around  us 
in  its  fruits  and  influences ;  only  be  not  bound  by  it ; 
shake  off  its  errors ;  and,  by  the  illumination  of  its 
truths,  go  on  to  future  good ;  for  the  true  aim  of 
the  past  is  not  to  check  but  to  impel  our  progress. 
Providence  is  One,  as  God  is  One.  It  is  carried  on 
through  unvarying  laws  ;  and,  to  him  who  could 
pierce  its  cloudy  veils,  its  harmonies  would  appear 
as  real  as  those  of  the  voiceless  orbs  that  journey 
round  the  untiring  sun. 

God  is  Infinite  Harmony.  It  follows,  therefore, 
that  all  his  creations  and  productions  are  accordant. 
The  voices  of  Nature,  Providence,  and  Christianity 


THE    INFINITE    HARMONY.  285 

must  accord,  or  their  source  is  not  the  same.  No 
one  truth  can  contradict  another.  No  man  befriends 
Christianity  by  introducing  discords  between  nature 
and  Christ.  Power  of  faith,  like  power  everywhere, 
is  promoted  by  union  of  parts.  We  want  the  united 
strength  of  all  truth,  and  then  we  stand  upon  the 
Rock  of  ages.  We  should  seek  to  harmonize  our 
views.  This  is  a  demand  of  reason,  a  want  of  the 
soul. 

Jesus  stood  in  the  centre  of  this  harmony.  He 
felt  the  unity  of  God  and  of  all  his  works.  He  was 
the  grand  harmonizer  of  men.  He  laid  all  things 
under  tribute  to  his  thought.  His  words  were  full 
of  the  spirit  that  breathes  the  fraternity  of  the 
race.  Nature  reveals  its  Author,  without  construct 
ing  a  theory  of  his  attributes.  Jesus  reveals  him  in 
the  same  free  and  majestic  manner.  He  urges  upon 
you  no  speculative  creed.  You  walk  among  his 
thoughts  as  among  mountains  and  fields,  never  con 
scious  of  intellectual  bondage.  He  spake  from  in 
ward  freedom  and  truth ;  and  hence  his  words  shall 
live  the  immortality  which  belongs  to  the  beauty  and 
inspirations  of  divinest  Truth  and  Love.  Jesus  re 
vealed  the  universal  love  of  God,  —  his  goodness  to 
all  men.  How  happily  does  nature  sanction  this 
truth  by  the  adaptation  of  her  skies,  earth,  light,  and 
various  gifts  to  the  wants  of  all  the  race  !  Nothing 
but  a  universal  love  could  have  anticipated  universal 
wants.  Jesus  gave  new  revelation  to  the  worth  and 
dignity  of  man ;  he  impressed  the  world  anew  with 
the  grandeur  of  his  spiritual  being,  its  vast  hopes 
and  prospects.  How  divine  the  sanctions  of  nature 


286 


THE    INFINITE    HARMONY. 


to  these  teachings !  For  she  owns  man,  that  is,  the 
development  of  all  his  powers,  as  her  chief  end,  to 
which  all  her  law,  order,  and  truth  do  constantly 
minister.  Nature  teaches  man  that  her  wealth  ends 
not  with  his  vision  ;  that  it  is  measureless  as  the  in 
finite  space ;  and  the  spontaneous  rising  of  the  hope 
immortal  in  the  human  breast,  in  all  tribes  and  under 
all  skies,  is  one  for  ever  with  the  voice  of  Jesus. 
Perhaps  the  great  characteristic  of  this  Teacher  is 
naturalness.  He  wanted  nothing  but  the  reality. 
He  despised  the  web-work  of  profession  so  nicely 
wrought  by  the  Pharisee  ;  he  could  not  endure  the 
untrue  appearances  of  men  around  him.  The  sin 
ner,  however  dark  his  crimes,  found  in  him  the  near 
friend,  so  long  as  he  stood  out  in  his  real  character, 
so  long  as  he  did  not  cover  over  his  sinfulness  with 
hypocrisy.  I  repeat  it,  reality  was  what  he  asked, 
and  what  he  gave.  I  need  not  here  pause  to  ex 
hibit  the  likeness  between  Jesus  and  nature  ;  for 
what  else  but  reality  does  nature  give  you  ?  Does 
not  every  flower  breathe  its  own  real  fragrance  ? 
does  not  every  tree  bear  its  own  leaves  and  blos 
soms  ?  does  not  every  bird  sing  the  song  that  is  true 
to  itself  ?  does  not  every  star,  Venus  and  Pleiades, 
shine  in  its  own  true  sphere  ?  All  here  is  reality. 
Simplicity  and  majesty  unite  in  the  rising  sun,  and 
in  the  glow  of  the  evening  skies.  Do  they  not  also 
unite  in  the  mind  and  character  of  Jesus  ?  The 
soul  of  man  is  itself  the  highest  nature.  In  it  is 
the  summary  of  all  spiritual  laws.  It  is  from  God 
more  nearly  than  the  sun  and  moon  are  from  God, 
since  the  soul  is  an  offspring,  and  therefore  of  kin- 


THE    INFINITE    HARMONY.  287 

dred  powers  with  the  Paternal  Fountain.  Its  facts 
and  laws,  therefore,  are  the  highest  facts  and  laws 
of  nature,  with  which  all  the  voices  of  God  do  and 
must  accord.  The  more  sinless  the  soul  is,  the  more 
clear  and  perfect  is  its  consciousness  of  God,  of  jus 
tice,  and  of  immortal  life  :  but,  as  it  is,  the  darkness 
of  sin  cannot  efface  it  wholly ;  sophistry  and  the 
passions  cannot  utterly  suppress  it ;  and  the  voice  of 
God,  at  times,  is  made  to  resound  in  all  souls.  The 
sympathy  of  Jesus  embraces  all,  as  God  in  nature 
surrounds  all  in  love.  I  therefore  ask  you  to  behold 
and  enjoy  the  entire  range  of  harmony  which  unites 
the  highest  divine  revelations  with  the  natural  world, 
the  inward  constitution  of  man,  and  the  general 
course  of  the  Divine  Providence ;  for  they  are  of 
One,  and  are  One.  Man  is  the  end  of  Nature, 
Providence,  and  Christianity  ;  and  is  it  not  harmony, 
when  a  grand  variety  of  means  truly  operate  and 
conspire  to  one  sublime  and  perfect  end  ? 

Thus  far  I  have  dwelt  on  the  necessary  harmony 
of  life  and  things,  on  that  which  does  and  will  exist 
independent  of  human  designings.  But  I  invite  at 
tention  to  the  grand  harmony  to  which  we  may  all 
aspire,  and  which,  in  real  practical  importance,  casts 
all  things  else  into  the  shade.  I  mean  the  voluntary 
harmony  of  character ;  for  it  is  plain  that  we  have 
the  power  of  self-formation,  if  we  will  but  use  it.  To 
stand  in  true  harmony  with  God,  to  be  one  with  all 
Right  and  Truth,  is  the  great  attainment,  —  it  is  the 
end  of  life.  I  have  alluded  to  an  harmonious  uni 
verse,  which  surrounds  us  all.  In  this  there  is  a 
perfect  balance.  And  why  may  we  not  aspire  to  an 


288  THE    INFINITE    HARMONY. 

harmonious  character,  to  a  true  proportion  and  just 
balance  of  all  th$=attributes  which  ennoble  humanity  ? 
Surely  the  germ  of  all  these  attributes  is  sown  upon 
its  soil.  Indeed,  to  be  in  physical  character  in  har 
mony  with  the  great  whole  is  110  small  aim ;  for  this 
requires  the  equal  manifestation  of  the  powers  of  the 
physical  man,  the  knowledge  of  the  laws  of  health, 
the  right  amount  of  exercise  and  rest,  the  wholesome 
air  for  respiration,  the  need  of  light  and  proper 
warmth,  and  in  food  and  drink  that  which  accords 
with  the  constitution  of  man  ;  —  I  say  this  is  much ; 
for  health  is  the  true  perfection  of  the  physical  man, 
the  true  harmony  of  its  powers.  He  who  develops 
only  a  part  of  his  organization,  he  who  brings  on 
disease  by  sinning  against  these  laws,  is  not  in  har 
mony  with  God,  so  far  as  these  laws  are  concerned : 
he  arrays  himself  against  him,  whether  he  knows  it 
or  not. 

But  the  idea  I  would  hold  forth  is  the  harmony 
of  the  soul,  the  complete  development  of  all  its 
powers.  There  is  no  higher  idea  of  human  perfec 
tion  than  this,  no  higher  view  of  spiritual  beauty. 
Jesus  owes  his  supreme  loveliness  to  this  fact.  The 
true  proportion  of  parts  is  as  much  a  law  of  spirit 
ual  as  of  natural  beauty.  The  intellectual  powers 
should  harmonize.  The  whole  vigor  should  not 
grow  up  into  imagination,  as  when  nothing  is  read 
but  poetry  and  novels,  —  as  when  nothing  is  cared 
for  but  the  ideal.  Nor  should  the  rational  poAver 
take  up  the  whole  intellectual  nutrition :  the  explor 
ing  of  causes,  the  discovery  of  great  truths  in  simple 
facts,  is  the  grand  power  by  which  knowledge  and 


THE    INFINITE    HARMONY.  289 

philosophy  increase.  But  in  the  intellectual  harmony 
there  is  imagination  and  reason  united  ;  there  is  per 
ception  and  reflection  combined,  as  on  the  earth 
there  is  the  fruitful  field  and  the  landscape  of  beau 
ties  ;  as  the  trees  are  not  all  roots  and  trunks,  but 
waving  branches,  delicate  leaves,  and  beautiful 
blossoms  also.  The  means  of  this  harmony  sur 
round  all,  —  and  would  though  all  books  were 
burned ;  for  everywhere  nature  addresses  the  im 
agination  in  a  thousand  forms  of  beauty ;  likewise 
all  facts  and  phenomena  challenge  us  to  learn  the 
cause.  But  man  is  more  than  intellect.  He  has 
moral  feelings  and  sentiments.  And  in  the  truly 
proportioned  character  these  predominate.  Moral 
right  is  the  mild  sovereign  of  the  soul,  to  which  all 
passions  bow.  Love,  in  such  a  one,  is  expanded, 
though  its  purest  energy  concentrates  in  most  power 
on  a  few,  —  on  children  and  friends ;  yet,  through 
this  love,  which  brings  to  the  heart  its  true  objects, 
all  things  appear  more  true,  more  divine,  than  before. 
Thus  through  the  near  we  reach  the  distant.  He 
who  loves  one  person  as  he  should,  is  able  to  love 
mankind ;  for  the  race  is  but  the  varied  forms  of  the 
same  humanity  we  revere  in  the  individual.  There 
is  a  balance  of  virtues  in  the  harmonious  character, 
as  there  is  a  balance  of  forces  in  the  sun  and  his 
family  of  revolving  worlds. 

The  character  I  have  before  me  is  not  all  mildness, 
nor  all  will  and  boldness  ;  he  has  will  when  will  is 
needed,  and  submission  when  that  is  required;  he 
has  energy  for  what  ought  to  be  done,  discrimination 
to  his  sympathy,  reason  to  his  philanthropy,  justice 
25 


THE    INFINITE    HARMONY. 

to  all  men ;  the  deep  reverence  and  supreme  love  of 
God,  in  union  with  the  just  reverence  and  love 
of  man.  He  makes  it  the  aim  of  life  to  illuminate 
his  own  mind,  and  to  purify  his  heart,  which  he  would 
make  the  garden,  not  of  one,  but  of  all  the  virtues. 

Opposed  to  this  is  the  one  ideaism  which  sects 
and  individuals  so  strongly  represent.  The  man  of 
one  idea  has  not  intellectual  harmony,  any  more,  in 
deed,  than  the  man  of  one  virtue  has  moral  concord. 
He  in  whom  the  whole  strength  of  mind  shoots  up 
into  one  idea  or  into  one  virtue,  be  that  abolitionism, 
peaceism,  or  temperanceism,  he  is  distorted  ;  he  is 
all  arm,  all  leg,  or  all  mouth  ;  he  is  not  the  man  of 
harmony,  in  whom  the  true  balance  of  all  the  virtues 
meet  and  blend  as  harmoniously  as  the  colors  of  the 
rainbow. 

He  who  lays  this  harmony  in  himself  can  enjoy 
all  other  harmonies :  life,  death,  the  past,  the  present, 
God,  and  nature,  all  yield  him  melody.  More  than 
this,  he  finds  harmony  with  others ;  since  he  loves 
all,  and  is  just  to  all.  Selfishness,  the  great  father 
of  discords,  is  not  his  father.  Say  not  that  this  is 
unattainable;  for  where  is  there  a  virtue  on  earth 
which  each  may  not  cultivate  in  some  degree  ?  This 
is  no  transcendental  dream.  Confucius,  five  cen 
turies  before  our  era,  gave  it  under  his  view  of  the 
Constant  Medium,  to  which,  he  said,  the  wise  and 
the  good  might  attain. 

Society  is  doubtless  in  a  conflicting  state,  although 
the  harmony  of  justice  is  wrought  out  in  all  its  great 
and  mighty  changes.  That  it  will  never  more  per 
fectly  unite,  we  cannot  think ;  for  the  nature  is  social, 


THE    INFINITE    HARMONY. 

and  the  aims  of  mankind  are  mostly  for  good.  Di 
versity  of  talent  and  of  fortune,  like  the  mountains 
and  plains  of  the  earth,  do  not  break  the  general 
good ;  but  the  formative  power  of  circumstance  is 
not  so  applied  as  to  make  each  as  intelligent,  virtu 
ous,  and  happy  as  he  might  become.  Society  simply 
displays  the  aggregate  condition  of  mind  to  which 
man  has  come  ;  and  certainly  the  phenomena  of  the 
general  mind  cannot  go  beyond  the  mind  it  displays. 
But  that  the  great  idea  of  human  brotherhood,  writ 
ten  by  sunbeams  in  nature,  and  uttered  by  heaven's 
eloquence  in  Christ,  will  be  more  and  more  actual 
ized  by  man,  I  cannot  doubt :  the  doubt  is  infidelity 
to  God  and  man.  One  great  harmony  of  the  uni 
verse  is  the  unity  of  the  human  race ;  a  fact  this 
which  does  not  need  either  the  affirmation  or  the 
denial,  that  the  race  sprung  from  two  original  pa 
rents  :  it  is  enough  that  the  Paternal  Cause  is  One, 
let  that  cause  operate  as  variously  as  it  will.  God  is 
the  Paternal  Fountain  of  all,  else  all  could  not  wor 
ship,  else  all  could  not  exhibit  love  and  reverence  for 
him.  Universal  history  unfolds  to  us  but  one  human 
ity,  whose  variety  is  no  greater  than  the  perfection 
of  the  unity  requires.  In  the  future,  therefore,  an 
Eden  smiles  ;  the  ages  predict  it ;  the  mighty  heart 
of  the  race  beats  in  unison  to  this  thought.  Hence, 
all  nations  look  onward  for  deliverers  and  deliver 
ances.  Once  bring  the  general  mind  up  to  that  of 
Jesus,  once  make  its  character  radiant  with  his  truth 
and  his  beautiful  love,  and  then  the  harmonies  will 
flow  down  into  government,  into  social  relations, 
into  all  human  effort. 


292  THE    INFINITE    HARMONY. 

But  I  would  follow  the  principle  which  operates 
to  the  production  of  concord  and  unity  into  its  widest 
range ;  I  would  examine  its  influence  on  the  future 
and  the  immortal  life ;  for  its  range  widens  into  infi 
nity.  As  no  neAV  element  can  ever  be  added  to 
humanity,  the  endless  future  can  only  develop  and 
display  the  faculties  now  possessed,  all  of  which  are 
formed  for  perpetual  progress.  It  follows  that  the 
future  life  grows  out  of  ourselves,  and  that  there  is 
nothing  in  all  its  glory  which  has  not  its  first  princi 
ples  in  what  we  now  are.  And,  through  certain  facts 
and  principles  operating  through  this  life,  we  may 
see  much  of  that  life  ;  for  there  is  no  immortality 
long  enough  for  man  to  outgrow  either  his  nature 
or  its  laws. 

In  our  present  being  we  discover  that  God  pro 
motes  the  harmony  of  mankind  through  two  general 
modes,  —  a  sameness  of  nature  and  experience.  The 
animal  comes  not  into  human  fellowship,  because  he 
lacks  the  human  powers  necessary  to  know  a  human 
being  in  his  rational  sphere.  But  from  the  sameness 
of  nature  common  to  the  race,  two  may  meet  from 
the  most  distant  parts  of  the  world,  and  in  time  may 
know  each  other's  sentiments.  This  is  not  all. 
There  must  be  an  essential  likeness  of  experience, 
or  the  sentiment  of  fraternity  could  not  spring  up. 
Were  it  possible  for  two  human  beings  to  meet,  in 
whose  experience  there  is  nothing  common,  it  is 
plain  that  between  them  there  could  be  no  exchange 
of  thought  or  feeling.  If  one  should  say  "  order  " 
or  "  light "  in  his  discourse,  the  other,  not  having  these 
in  his  experience,  could  not  respond,  could  not  know 


THE    INFINITE    HARMONY.  293 

his  meaning.  Man  understands  man,  because  the 
same  facts  fundamentally  are  in  the  experience  of 
each  and  all.  Look,  for  instance,  to  the  material 
world.  Do  not  all  experience  the  same  laws  of  na 
ture  in  all  parts  of  the  earth  ?  Is  not  attraction  the 
same  in  India  as  in  Boston  ?  Light,  air,  water, 
earth,  and  heat  are  the  same.  The  seven  primary 
colors  and  sounds  are  the  same  to  all  eyes  and  ears. 
All  know  day  and  night,  size,  distance,  motion ;  all 
know  the  one  sun  and  moon,  and,  above  all,  see 
the  flowery  fields  of  stars.  Up  and  down,  far  and 
near,  straight  and  crooked,  life  and  death,  are  similar 
facts  to  all  mankind ;  whence  it  is  that  a  kindred 
experience  makes  possible  the  mutual  acquaintance, 
and  this,  the  kindred  feeling  and  harmony  of  souls. 
But  whence  comes  this  common  experience  in  the 
outward  world  ?  and  what  means  it  ?  Evidently  it 
comes  from  that  constitution  of  material  nature 
which,  while  it  unfolds  variety,  brings  all  the  race 
under  a  unity  of  material  laws.  And  the  evident 
meaning  is  to  lay  the  foundation  for  harmony  in  the 
lives  of  all,  and  to  carry  all  forward  in  the  perfection 
of  their  powers. 

But  glance  a  moment  into  the  moral  nature  and 
laws  of  the  universe.  Are  there  not  common  facts 
which  unite  all  ?  Thought,  as  a  power,  is  the  same 
in  Borneo  as  in  Oxford,  though  differing  in  form, 
direction,  and  degree.  Love,  too,  as  a  power,  is 
one,  though  in  condition  it  varies  in  the  degrees  of 
elevation.  To  all  there  is  a  past,  a  present,  and  a 
future ;  a  memory,  action,  and  hope.  Virtue  and 
vice,  sorrow  and  joy;  are  known  to  all.  Worship, 

25* 


294  THE    INFINITE    HARMONY. 

the  hope  of  life  after  death,  and  the  belief  in  retribu 
tion,  are  common  facts.  Indeed,  the  laws  of  our 
spiritual  nature  are  the  same  ;  and  hence  it  is  that 
the  race  have  something  common  in  their  experience, 
something  to  unite  them  in  feeling  and  interest. 
Men  have  many  dialects ;  but  one  language  flows 
from  all.  All  are  brothers  by  trial,  by  combat  with 
difficulty,  as  well  as  through  kindred  powers. 

These  two  principles  of  harmony,  the  common 
nature  and  the  kindred  facts  of  experience,  are  now 
sufficiently  clear.  They  need  but  to  be  glanced  at 
to  convince  us  of  their  power.  I  now  affirm  that 
these  fundamentals  of  human  concord  flow  through 
all  worlds  ;  that  nothing  less  than  the  universe  com 
pletes  their  range.  Of  this  truth  we  are  convinced 
by  many  considerations.  The  harmony  of  the  uni 
verse,  as  a  whole,  necessitates  the  conclusion,  that 
our  planet,  our  nature,  and  our  necessary  experience 
of  established  laws,  be  not  isolated  from  the  rest ; 
still  more,  that  these  form  no  contradiction,  no  clash 
with  the  nature,  law,  and  order  of  other  worlds ; 
for  concord  of  the  whole  always  depends  on  the 
harmony  of  the  parts.  Isolation  and  contradiction 
are  impossible  to  the  harmonic  whole,  are  ideas  for 
ever  alien  to  nature's  perfect  arrangements. 

That  there  are  numberless  worlds,  our  eyes  see ; 
that  our  vision  takes  in  but  a  mite,  is  certain  ;  and 
that  those  untold  millions  of  worlds  are  inhabited  by 
intelligent  beings,  is  the  only  thought  worthy  of 
faith  in  an  Infinite  Creator.  We  cannot  know  that 
intelligent  beings  are  in  those  worlds :  but  this  we 
know,  that  nothing  but  intelligence  could  manage 


THE   INFINITE    HARMONY,  295 

and  take  care  of  those  massive  and  beautiful  orbs ; 
that  nothing  but  intelligence  could  turn  them  to  any 
account ;  and,  wherever  intelligence  acts,  there  must 
be  an  intelligent  actor.  Surely  the  boundless  fields 
of  immensity  are  not  a  cold,  neglected  waste.  If  the 
chief  end  of  material  nature  is  to  develop  spiritual 
life,  as  we  discover  to  be  the  case  in  our  own  world, 
we  must  infer  the  general  existence  of  moral  intelli 
gences  throughout  the  entire  empire  of  space.  That 
God  should  love  his  own  image  more  than  he  loves 
huge  masses  of  matter,  is  evident  from  the  excel 
lence  of  his  nature ;  that  he  should  seek  to  multiply 
what  he  most  loves  throughout  the  universe,  is  the 
safest  induction. 

Having  lifted  our  minds  to  the  immensity  of  the 
universe,  we  will  now  return  to  the  two  ideas  of  har 
mony  already  laid  down,  —  the  sameness  of  nature 
and  of  experience.  And  first,  the  sameness  of  na 
ture.  The  chief  beings  of  every  world  must  be  of 
our  own  nature,  although  the  condition  of  that  na 
ture  may  be  higher  or  lower.  I  say  they  must  be  in 
nature  the  same,  from  the  fact  that  every  mind  in  the 
universe  capable  of  reason  and  of  moral  law  is  of 
the  same  family.  Truth  cannot  be  explored,  or 
moral  law  obeyed,  on  Saturn,  any  more  than  here, 
without  the  rational  and  the  moral  nature.  The 
chief  beings  of  every  planet  must  have  material 
bodies,  in  order  to  be  adapted  to  their  world ;  and, 
unless  they  have  minds  of  a  kindred  order  with  the 
powers  of  the  Creator,  they  could  never  interpret  his 
works,  nor  render  him  homage.  The  outward  uni 
verse,  being  the  embodiment  of  Divine  thought  and 


296  THE   INFINITE    HARMONY, 

love,  is  a  true  display  of  the  Eternal  Powers  ;  and 
whoever  looks  at  nature  so  as  to  know  its  thought 
and  love,  proves  thereby  that  his  mind  is  of  the  same 
order  as  the  Divine.  God  is  the  infinite  condition  of 
our  own  powers.  Otherwise  we  could  no  more 
interpret  the  Divine  Mind  than  the  wild  animal 
could  discern  the  attributes  of  the  human.  The  ma 
terial  and  the  moral  laws  of  the  universe  are  un 
changeably  the  same.  The  chief  beings,  therefore, 
of  all  worlds  must  have  the  same  nature,  in  order 
to  be  the  subjects  of  the  same  moral  and  material 
laws. 

That  there  is  to  a  great  extent  —  how  far  I  will 
not  undertake  to  say  —  a  likeness  of  experience 
between  the  chief  beings  of  all  worlds,  is  evident 
from  the  sameness  of  the  moral  and  the  material 
laws.  Attraction  is  experienced  in  all  other  worlds, 
as  it  is  here ;  for  it  is  in  all  what  it  is  here.  This 
power  is  universal ;  and  here  is  one  fact  in  the  mate 
rial  world  which  must  exist  equally  in  the  experience 
of  all  the  moral  intelligences  occupying  the  bound 
less  realms  of  nature,  spread  out  for  their  use, 
cultivation,  and  care.  Light  and  heat  must  be 
substantially  the  same.  The  universal  light  must 
carry  to  all  worlds  the  seven  primary  colors;  for 
they  all  exist  in  it.  Matter  and  mind,  of  which  the 
universe  is  composed,  must  everywhere  exhibit  simi 
lar  properties ;  and  the  chief  beings  of  all  worlds, 
being  themselves  matter  and  mind,  must,  in  their 
experience,  develop  the  wants  and  properties  of 
these,  which  are  fundamentally  the  same,  through 
out  immensity.  The  bodies  which  human  minds 


THE    INFINITE    HARMONY. 


297 


have  assumed  correspond  to  the  minds  they  embo 
dy.  The  one  is  the  image  of  the  other.  From  the 
adaptation  of  thing  to  thing  everywhere  manifest  in 
the  Creator's  work,  we  may  safely  infer  that  the 
mind,  in  all  other  worlds,  assumes  a  form  to  and 
expressive  of  itself ;  and,  from  the  sameness  of 
powers  in  all  rational  and  moral  natures,  we  may 
infer  the  resemblance  of  visible  embodiments ;  that 
is  to  say,  that  the  forms  of  the  chief  beings  in  all  the 
other  worlds  bear  some  similitude  to  our  own.  In 
deed,  the  man  of  that  most  beautiful  planet  Saturn, 
embellished  by  the  environs  of  two  majestic  rings, 
and  illumined  by  the  lamps  of  seven  moons,  must  be 
like  us,  erect  in  stature,  or  he  could  not  see  the 
sublimity  of  the  skies  above  him ;  he  could  not  well 
study  astronomy ;  for  the  prone  animals  are  not 
constituted  to  look  upwards,  but  downwards  and 
horizontal.  So,  indeed,  of  all  worlds. 

The  fact,  that  the  universe  has  but  one  only  liv 
ing  and  true  God,  throws  into  the  moral  experience 
of  the  chief  beings  of  all  worlds  one  common  ele 
ment.  The  God  of  your  being  is  the  God  of  all 
beings.  His  attributes  are  the  same  in  all  places. 
Hence  all  true  revelations  throughout  the  universe 
must  reveal  the  same  order  of  wisdom,  power,  and 
love.  Hence  all  beings  must  experience  the  same 
qualities  of  the  Divine  Nature.  I  ask,  is  not  this  the 
greatest  point  ?  Does  it  not  lay  the  foundation  of 
the  universal  concord  ?  For,  in  the  great  hereafter, 
it  will  be  impossible  to  meet  a  mind,  I  care  not 
where  trained,  though  infinitely  distant  from  the 
sphere  of  our  own  former  planet,  who  will  not  be 


298  THE    INFINITE    HARMONY. 

one  with  us  in  this,  that  we  each  have  the  same 
God,  —  that  Heaven  has  revealed  to  us  both  the 
same  Supreme.  The  unity  of  God  implies  that  his 
various  manifesting  mediums  have  unity  also,  so 
that,  through  the  infinite  space,  the  roads  which 
lead  to  the  Supreme  are  similar.  In  other  words, 
God  must  be  known  by  what  he  does,  by  his  own 
works  and  language.  Now,  the  unity  of  the  actor 
and  of  the  speaker  is  necessarily  impressed  on  the 
action  and  the  speech.  There  is  this  unity  to  all 
the  acts  and  words  that  ever  came  from  any  one, 
that  sum  them  all  up,  not  even  omitting  the  contra 
dictions,  and  that  sum  is  the  full  revelation  of  him. 
All  the  parts  unite  to  tell  us  who  and  what  he  is. 
But  the  field  of  man's  doing  is  limited.  The  field  of 
the  Divine  action  is  unlimited :  it  is  equal  to  himself. 
And  there  is  unity  flowing  throughout  the  entire 
doings  of  God,  so  that  the  whole  circle  of  his  works 
and  utterance  tells  who  and  what  he  is.  As  his  mani 
festations  include  all  things,  and  as  there  is  unity 
floAving  through  all  these,  is  it  not  safe  to  say  that 
there  are  likeness  and  unity  in  the  experience  of  all 
the  beings  of  the  different  worlds,  capable  of  coming 
to  the  Divine  Mind  through  its  manifestations  ?  For 
their  experience  must  accord  with  the  universe  in 
which  they  are  placed,  and  the  means  through  which 
the  Deity  is  revealed. 

I  would  here  pause  for  a  moment  to  apply  the 
truth  already  gained.  We  have  gone  over  the  evi 
dence  which  yields  us  the  two  convictions,  that  the 
powers  and  the  experience  of  all  moral  intelligences 
are  kindred,  are  similar.  Reciprocal  influences  and 


THE    INFINITE    HARMONY.  299 

sympathies  cannot  exist  without  these.  They  are 
the  necessary,  though  not  the  entire,  fountains  of  the 
universal  concord  of  minds.  Behold  the  beautiful 
lesson !  The  school  of  the  universe  is  so  arranged, 
the  universal  order  is  so  fixed,  that,  from  all  ends 
of  the  vast  creation,  rational  and  moral  beings  may 
hereafter  meet  with  the  power  of  mutual  love  and 
sympathy.  All  things  point  to  the  spiritual,  and  the 
general  harmony  of  minds.  Glorious  universe ! 
Prophetic  Nature ! 

One  more  element  in  the  grand  concord  of  souls 
let  me  here  point  out.  I  mean  the  elective  affinity, 
by  which  all  minds  and  hearts  recognize  those  of 
their  own  order.  The  astonishing  facility  and  accu 
racy  which  mark  the  operation  of  this  principle  in 
human  society,  among  every  order  of  talent,  taste, 
genius,  disposition,  and  character,  are  truly  remark 
able.  By  this  elective  affinity  we  are  drawn  to 
some,  and  repelled  from  others.  By  it  we  would 
choose  our  society  and  friends.  But  there  are  ob 
stacles  to  its  perfect  operation  here.  The  transient 
affinities  of  local  and  selfish  interests  do  it  violence. 
But  it  is  a  perfect  law.  In  the  free  future,  these 
obstructions  will  be  removed  ;  and,  under  its  perfect 
and  universal  action,  society  will  form  itself.  Every 
degree  of  moral  and  intellectual  excellence,  every 
shade  of  ignorance  and  vice,  will  so  control  its  ac 
tion,  that  society  will  fall  into  the  most  harmonious 
relations  possible.  The  law  which  forms  the  crystal 
is  not  more  infallible  than  this  elective  affinity,  which, 
cleared  of  obstructions,  shall  form  society  into  con 
cordant  relations  and  parts. 


300  THE    INFINITE    HARMONY. 

Thus  dawns  upon  us  the  Infinite  Harmony.  It 
flows  through  the  ages,  and  ranges  through  all  time 
and  space.  It  pervades  the  infinite  divisions  of  na 
ture,  and  ascends  as  a  silent  hymn  from  all  the 
changes  and  facts  of  life.  Justice  works  in  order. 
It  has  an  infinite  range.  Wisdom  works  out  nothing 
but  harmony.  It  holds  empire  over  a  boundless 
sweep  of  Providence.  God  is  One.  Hence  the  uni 
verse  is  the  infinitely  divided  harmony.  God  is 
Love.  This  is  the  great  fact ;  for  love  is  the  har- 
monizer  of  discords,  the  great  fountain  of  union  and 
peace.  The  infinite  harmony  of  God,  nature,  and 
time,  is  laid  in  the  human  consciousness ;  otherwise 
the  soul  could  not  know  it  when  revealed,  otherwise 
the  soul  is  not  descended  from  God.  Rejoice  that 
such  a  nature  is  yours.  Rejoice  that  such  a  universe 
surrounds  you.  Rejoice  in  Him  whose  unseen  hand 
so  moves  upon  the  harp  of  time  as  to  bring  music 
from  all  its  trembling  strings.  Trust  deeply  in  him. 
He  is  the  harmonic  worker.  Gain  the  spirit  of  all 
things,  the  spirit  of  God.  Be  within  yourselves  the 
harmonioiis  fountain.  Make  the  universe  your  song, 
and  the  endless  time  your  solemn  anthem.  Be  one, 
and  your  concords  are  eternal. 


301 


SORROW. 


WONDERFUL  is  the  problem  of  man's  life.  Who 
shall  declare  its  meaning  ?  Who  shall  lift  the  veil 
of  darkness  from  its  truths  ?  It  is  not  difficult,  I 
admit,  to  see  that  the  general  aim  of  being  is  good 
ness  ;  indeed,  it  appears  most  difficult  not  to  see  it ; 
but  so  to  interpret  the  conflicting  phenomena  of 
human  happiness  and  misery  as  to  harmonize  them 
with  Divine  benevolence  is  a  task  confessedly  great. 
The  human  race,  in  their  own  imperfect  ways,  are 
seekers  of  happiness ;  and  from  every  summit  of 
observation,  from  the  deep  of  the  human  heart,  un 
der  every  shade  of  sorrow  and  dissatisfaction,  the 
solemn  questions  have  been  given,  Why  is  life  so 
incomplete  ?  Why  are  dissatisfaction,  sorrow,  and 
suffering  so  great  a  part  of  human  destiny  ?  How 
do  the  numerous  opposites  blend  into  unity  ?  I 
claim  not  the  ability  to  rend  the  dark  veil  of  this 
mysterious  temple.  Perhaps  it  hangs  there  to  tem 
per  the  otherwise  too  effulgent  light,  which,  by  its 
brightness,  had  injured  our  vision.  But,  to  shed 
some  light  on  the  sources  and  aims  of  human  misery, 
I  select  this  topic,  which,  though  not  particularly 
demanded  by  especial  occasion,  forms  so  great  a 
part  of  human  experience,  that  no  time  is  inappro- 

26 


302  SORROW. 

priate  when  the  spirit  of  reflection  is  able  and  willing 
to  meet  its  demands. 

The  soul  has  poured  the  eloquence  of  its  sorrows 
into  all  history.  The  poetry  of  every  nation  sings 
the  fact.  The  mighty  past,  viewed  simply  from 
external  appearance,  is  one  great  drama  of  life 
and  death,  grandeur  and  ruins.  Laughter  and  tears 
have  alternated  as  sunshine  and  showers  in  the  great 
experience  of  ages.  Now  that  we  are  in  the  promises 
of  the  nineteenth  century,  we  find  humanity  the  same ; 
its  skies,  with  each  and  all  of  us,  changing  in  daily 
experience  ;  now  lovely  in  its  light,  and  anon  som 
bre  in  the  menace  of  its  cloud.  Yet,  under  these 
mutations,  the  earth  of  being  revolves,  and  the  great 
discipline  of  spirits  goes  on  unceasingly.  The  soul,  I 
take  it,  seldom  feels  its  completeness,  rarely  knows 
the  entire  absence  of  dissatisfaction  ;  while,  through 
its  constitutional  elements  of  happiness,  the  sadness 
of  sorrow  and  the  bitterness  of  misery  do  often 
come.  I  would  draw  no  unreal  picture.  I  would 
allow  the  very  eye  and  countenance  of  society  to 
utter  in  silence  the  various  chastenings,  perversions, 
and  injuries  of  the  spirit,  whose  signs  they  are. 

Nor  is  the  fact  of  sorrow,  here  named,  in  human 
life  without  sympathy  and  likeness  in  the  natural 
world,  whose  intermingling  lights  and  shades,  whose 
fading  flowers  and  sighing  winds,  whose  autumn 
silence  and  darkened  skies,  answer  back  the  feelings 
of  the  mind.  There  are  limes  when  nature  seems 
full  of  conscious  feeling,  when  her  spirit  seems  to 
say  that  causes  of  mournful  aspect  live  behind  her 
many  veils  and  curtains.  The  soul  reads  the  Ian- 


SORROW.  303 

guage  it  feels.  If  some  circumstance,  as  the  death 
of  the  dearest  friend,  strikes  the  plaintive  chord 
within  you,  the  universe  at  once  resounds  the  serious 
melodies  of  the  heart.  All  things  become  your 
friend,  and  the  brooks  and  forests  turn  mourners 
also.  The  soul  has  no  words  which  nature  does  not 
speak.  It  is  well  that  God,  in  his  works,  has  this 
various  language ;  for  all  may  be  solaced  in  this 
various  communion,  into  which  no  hypocrisy  ever 
enters. 

In  looking  into  the  face  of  this  problem,  we  should 
avoid  the  pusillanimous  folly  of  bringing  into  the 
causation  an  evil  being,  to  whose  agency  the  phe 
nomena  of  woe  must  be  ascribed.  This  is  to  divide 
the  universe  between  God  and  Belial,  to  deny  all 
unity  of  plan  and  purpose  in  the  government  of  the 
world,  to  supplant  faith  in  God  as  being  All  in  All, 
and  is  high  treason  against  the  whole  system  of 
cause  and  consequence.  The  wildest  surmises  have 
grown  out  of  this  apparent  conflict  of  good  and  ill ; 
some  even  denying  to  God  the  authorship  of  the 
world,  and  others  giving  him  an  unconquerable 
antagonist  in  the  administration  of  its  affairs.  But 
faith,  in  union  with  reason,  is  conscious  of  boundless 
harmony  in  the  circle  of  nature  and  providence,  and 
jovfully  affirms  the  unity  of  God,  and  the  oneness 
of  his  government. 

In  seeking  the  fountains  of  human  sorrow,  one  is 
conscious  of  looking  into  an  abyss  of  truth,  or  of 
glancing  into  such  vast  complications  as  to  be  in  a 
measure  confused.  Still  we  are  positive  that  all  the 
phenomena  of  misery  resolve  themselves  into  cause 


304  SORROW. 

and  effect  as  truly  as  do  the  endless  facts  of  outward 
nature  ;  and  of  this  truth  we  will  not  lose  sight, 
though  the  greatest  mysteries  crowd  upon  us.  That 
the  whole  problem  of  suffering  is  solved  by  the  one 
idea,  —  the  violation  of  natural  law,  —  we  cannot 
believe,  since  the  necessary  law  of  things  constantly 
inflicts  it.  Each  step  of  yours  on  the  verdant  earth 
crushes  living  millions.  Air,  sea,  and  forest  animals 
inflict  and  endure  suffering,  not  against  the  natural 
law,  but  by  and  through  it.  Pain,  in  certain  forms, 
is  the  universal  fact  in  the  whole  animated  system. 
Thus  do  we  see  that  suffering  prevails  where  instinct 
unerringly  guides  its  millions  to  fulfil  the  laws  of 
their  being. 

Man  differs  from  all  these.  He  has  reason,  lan 
guage,  hope,  religion,  sorrow,  and  happiness  .in  their 
deep  fountains  and  high  forms.  And  whatever  the 
sources  of  human  misery  are,  it  is  certain  that  they 
are  bounded  by  the  nature  of  man,  by  its  inward 
action  and  external  circumstance,  in  every  age  of 
his  being. 

Naturally,  therefore,  we  begin  by  seeking  the 
sources  of  human  evil  in  man  himself.  And  the  first 
discovery  is,  that  each  element  of  humanity  is  sus 
ceptible  of  happiness,  and,  what  follows  from  this, 
that  he  has  an  equal  capacity  of  misery.  Through 
each  of  the  high  gifts,  misery  may  flow.  Reason  has 
its  own  labors  and  sorrows.  Fancy  makes  illusion, 
and  suffers  in  conflict  with  the  real.  Hope  knows 
its  own  wrecks,  conscience  its  own  suffering,  the  will 
its  own  struggles,  and  love  its  own  sorrows.  The 
greatness  of  these  elements  appears  in  all  human  grief; 


SORROW.  305 

and  nothing  more  eloquently  publishes  the  grandeur 
of  man  than  the  character  and  extent  of  his  sor 
rows.  The  sorrow  of  doubt  attests  the  superiority 
of  the  intellect,  but  for  which  the  struggle  of  faith 
were  impossible.  Only  a  great  nature  can  know 
remorse.  It  is  possible  only  on  the  ground  that  the 
power  of  moral  right  in  human  nature  is  mighty  and 
faithful.  The  ruins  of  human  hope,  the  tears  of 
misplaced  and  wounded  affection,  all  unite  to  bear 
witness  that  our  spiritual  being  has  the  divine  order 
of  powers  ;  a  testimony  this  baptized  in  tears,  and 
therefore  more  earnest  and  real,  nay,  more  beautiful 
also,  than  the  truest  speculations  of  the  divine  con 
cerning  the  dignity  of  man.  But,  while  the  richness 
of  the  human  elements  proves  that,,  but  for  the 
superiority  of  the  human  nature,  the  great  sorrows 
could  not  be,  I  do  not  infer  thence,  that  human 
misery  comes  from  either  of  these,  or  all  combined, 
except  there  is  some  fundamental  conflict  in  their 
nature,  an  innate  war  of  elements,  so  to  speak,  in 
the  human  consciousness,  which  I  do  not  find.  We 
know  that  a  conflict  of  power  with  power  is  displayed 
in  the  lives  of  all;  but  it  is  difficult  to  verify  the 
position,  that  the  primitive  constitution  is  the  parent 
of  this  conflict.  Still  it  seems  quite  natural  for  pas 
sion  to  oppose  reason,  for  fancy  to  resist  judgment, 
for  appetite,  though  perhaps  only  through  abuse,  to 
cry  against  the  reason  and  the  right.  Whether  the 
conflict  of  these  grand  elements  be  primitive  or  not, 
it  proves  the  transcendent  greatness  of  the  nature, 
and  that  the  source  of  human  sorrow  wells  up 
through  an  immortal  soil. 

26* 


306 


SORROW. 


But  I  would  say  that  the  perversion  of  the  ele 
ments  of  humanity  is  the  most  mournful  and  constant 
fountain  of  human  misery.  Violence  has  been  done, 
and  pain  is  borne.  Ignorance  and  vice  pervert  us 
in  a  thousand  ways ;  and  so  deeply  does  sin  strike 
into  the  inner  life,  that  its  infirmities  at  least  are 
reproduced  in  after  generations ;  so  that  all  trans 
gression  of  divine  law,  whether  in  the  perishable 
or  the  imperishable  man,  is  marked  with  the  wise, 
calm,  and  long  displeasure  of  the  True  and  the 
Right.  Sin  is  a  word  of  fearful  meaning,  and  all 
climes  are  shaded  by  its  gloom.  It  is  the  poison  of 
the  spirit-life,  the  eclipse  of  the  soul,  the  fountain 
and  river  of  tears  over  all  the  earth.  Why  is  not 
the  eye  more  celestial  in  its  expression  ?  Why  does 
not  the  countenance  radiate  more  truth,  purity,  and 
love  ?  or  why  do  the  features  publish  the  reign  of 
doubt,  of  selfish  aims,  of  lust,  and  sin  ?  Oh !  it  is 
because  our  nature  is  so  true,  it  will  in  some  manner 
draw  the  likeness  of  the  great  inward  fact,  which, 
be  it  pure  or  evil,  is  more  than  all  other  facts,  it 
being  that  to  which  all  else  conspires.  I  speak  here 
of  the  voluntary  evil  which  we  experience,  knowing 
the  right,  and  doing  the  wrong.  Excess  in  any  of 
the  powers  is  sin ;  and  some  kind  of  suffering,  ac 
cording  to  the  nature  of  the  excess,  in  solemn  and 
severe  kindness,  warns  us  of  the  fact.  And,  among 
the  voluntary  wrongs  which  moisten  "  countless 
thousands'  "  eyes,  is  that  of  unkindness.  The  cold 
look,  the  harsh  or  icy  word,  the  oppressive  act,  grieve 
the  tender  sensibilities,  waken  the  power  of  despair, 
and  plant  the  thorns  of  discouragement  and  sorrow, 


SORROW.  307 

in  a  thousand  hearts.  Most  believingly  do  we  affirm 
it,  that  all  that  is  necessary  to  take  from  the  world 
half  of  its  misery  is  the  loving  spirit  of  Jesus.  In 
this  spirit,  what  delight  would  we  have  in  bearing 
each  other's  sorrows,  in  cheering  each  other's  sad 
ness  !  Graceful  and  kind  would  be  our  words ;  for 
true  love  speaks  no  other.  The  smiles  of  the  human 
face  were  then  real  sunlight,  never  failing  to  create 
joy.  The  influence  of  such  love  in  acts,  whether 
of  alms  to '  the  poor,  or  electric  words  of  life  to  the 
desponding,  is  the  Spirit  of  God  breathing  upon  our 
hearts. 

I  claim  that  all  evil  within  the  circle  of  the  will 
may  be  avoided  ;  every  passion  may  be  tempered 
and  held  by  reason  ;  ambition,  often  the  fire  of  hell 
on  earth,  may  be  cooled  and  purified  by  the  moral 
sentiment ;  and  that  selfishness,  which  wakes  up  in 
its  path  a  thousand  foes,  may  be  burned  to  ashes  by 
the  true  Christian  faith  and  love.  How  much  of 
ignorance  might  we  remove  !  and  how  many  abuses 
of  the  body  might  we  correct ! 

But,  beyond  the  pale  of  volition,  springs  of  suffer 
ing  arise.  The  rude  play  of  elements  often  sport 
with  human  life  ;  the  savage  sea  destroys  ;  the  sirocco 
kills ;  the  wild  beast  feasts  upon  prey ;  famine  lifts 
his  pale  face,  and  walks  in  death's  drear  way  over 
territories  where  plenty  was  wont  to  reign  ;  the  earth 
quake,  with  but  a  few  trembling  warnings,  swallows 
multitudes  ;  while,  from  the  chemical  changes  of  the 
elements  around  us,  disease  and  death  spring  up. 
We  inherit  the  infirmities  of  ancestors :  willing  evil 
in  them,  in  time  became  necessary  injury  to  descend- 


303 


SORROW. 


ants.  Ignorance,  to  some  extent,  is  a  necessary  evil ; 
since  capacity  is  limited,  and  we  all  begin  this  life 
knowing  nothing.  Yet  it  is  the  queen  and  mother 
of  superstitious  horrors :  the  people  wail  and  cry 
because  the  sun  is  eclipsed.  It  is  an  ocean  of  tears. 
Social  evils  are  necessary,  until  there  is  wisdom  and 
will  enough  to  remove  them.  Death,  too,  God's 
good  angel,  in  the  true  constitution  and  meaning  of 
things,  will  come  and  take  away  the  dearest,  leaving 
no  assurances  but  its  own  mystic  shadow  behind. 
The  bereaved  mother  exclaims,  "  What,  O  Heaven  ! 
tell  me  what  has  become  of  my  child  !  "  But  Heaven 
answers  only  by  its  silence.  Here  is  necessary  evil, 
so  much  of  it  that  it  scorns  our  logic,  should  we 
account  for  it  by  violation  of  law.  It  is  a  part  of 
the  system  of  things.  And  in  real  life  there  will 
always  be  something  to  dissatisfy  us,  to  excite  sor 
row.  The  tale  which  has  never  grown  old,  of 
reason  broken,  of  honors  withered,  of  life's  fair 
blossoms  cropped,  of  friends  severed,  of  virtue  lost, 
will  continue  to  be  the  news,  a  part  of  the  darkly- 
winged  messages  of  intelligence,  to  future  genera 
tions  of  men.  And,  if  we  might  be  allowed  to  walk 
freely  on  sacred  ground,  we  would  point  to  the  sor 
rows  which  have  come  from  the  abuses  of  the  one 
good  and  sacred  element  of  humanity,  the  instinct  of 
religion.  But  let  us  not  linger  here.  The  elements 
of  the  tree  and  the  shrub  are  not  perverted  ;  they 
unite  in  one  thing,  the  very  thing  intended  ;  but  it  is 
the  glory  of  our  humanity  that  it  has  the  wonderful, 
and,  I  may  add,  the  fearful  gift  of  moral  freedom, 
and  may  therefore  be  perverted,  and  is  perverted. 


SORROW.  309 

But,  to  meet  all  these  things,  there  is  true  heroism 
in  man  to  suffer  and  to  endure  ;  nay,  more,  there  is 
genius  in  him  to  draw  from  his  evils  the  greatest 
good.  Since  there  is  a  plurality  of  purposes  which 
each  single  thing  subserves,  since  every  fact  ful 
fils  an  end,  I  would  ask  for  the  uses  and  influ 
ences  of  human  sorrow  and  suffering  ;  for  surely, 
in  a  universe  of  such  economy  and  design  as  this, 
the  vast  phenomena  of  sorrow  are  neither  wasted 
nor  purposeless.  I  think  it  clear,  that  Perfect  Bene 
volence  has  made  sorrow  possible  ;  not  only  possible, 
but,  to  a  good  extent,  necessary  and  useful.  I  freely 
express  the  conviction,  that  there  is  no  more  suffering 
in  the  universe  than  there  ought  to  be,  considering  the 
causes  it  springs  from.  The  causes,  until  removed, 
ought  to  be  followed  as  they  are.  The  pain  is  no 
more  than  adequate  to  the  burn.  The  remorse  is 
no  greater  than  its  cause  in  the  conscience.  The 
outbursts  of  the  volcano  are  not  more  than  the  sub 
terranean  fire.  The  tornado  is  none  too  sweeping 
for  the  impelling  cause  in  the  atmosphere.  The 
social  evils  of  families,  communities,  and  govern- 
ments,  are  not  greater  than  the  follies  which  preceded 
and  caused  them. 

We  too  suddenly  grow  impatient  of  trial,  and 
apply  to  life  the  motto  too  rashly,  that  happiness  is 
the  chief  end  of  being,  which,  in  its  deepest  sense, 
is  true,  since  the  perfection  of  all  our  various  powers 
is  happiness.  But  for  immediate  happiness,  and 
complete,  no  one  is  made.  It  is  better  to  say,  that 
the  true  development  of  our  nature  is  the  end ;  and, 
from  the  depth,  richness,  and  variety  of  its  powers, 


310  SORROW. 

infer  the  need  of  a  various  and  complicated  system 
of  means  to  bring  them  out.  Among  these,  trial, 
sorrow,  suffering,  are  a  necessary  part.  The  willow 
hangs  down  its  beautiful  branches  in  nature,  the 
very  symbol  of  the  meekness  and  beauty  of  grief. 
The  voices  of  many  birds,  the  speech  of  many 
lovely  scenes  on  earth,  seem  tuned  and  pencilled 
to  this  idea.  The  soul  has  the  rich  sensibilities, 
which,  from  the  variety  of  outward  circumstance, 
render  some  alternations  of  joy  and  sorrow  inevi 
table.  Life  is  a  discipline,  and  there  is  not  a  chord 
in  our  wonderful  nature  which  some  event  does  not 
strike  at  some  time.  The  riches  of  this  discipline 
are  strewn  over  all  the  earth  ;  we  reap  them  intel 
lectually  and  morally,  even  when  least  aware  of 
doing  so.  When  heaven  pours  out  its  tears  in 
rain,  the  good  is  not  visible  till  the  shower  is  past, 
Avhen  every  lawn,  meadow,  and  forest  tells  it :  mil 
lions  of  flowers  silently  thank  the  liquid  visitants  by 
their  new-gained  vigor  and  freshness. 

Great  trials  and  sufferings  make  history  interest 
ing.  Even  heroism  arouses  us,  because  it  is  the  dis 
play  of  great  mental  force  in  its  triumph  over  such 
difficulties  as  amaze  the  common  mind.  Could  all 
sorrow  and  trial  be  at  once  blotted  out  from  our  own 
experience,  would  not  our  individual  history  be  more 
charmless  and  dull  in  the  retrospection?  Even  the 
places  where  the  alternations  of  joy  and  grief  have 
been  greatest  are  a  sort  of  hallowed  ground  ;  and  all 
history  were  a  dull  and  even  plain  but  for  its  tragi 
cal  events.  I  admire  the  tragedy  of  human  life.  In 
nature  we  would  not  melt  down  the  wild  mountains, 


SORROW.  311 

whose  leaping  torrents  and  solemn  grandeur  give  us 
"  beauty  lying  in  the  lap  of  terror,"  merely  to  form  in 
its  place  a  landscape  of  flowers.  We  would  not  tear 
from  the  skies  the  dark  embroidery  of  storm,  nor 
silence  the  loud  trumpets  by  which  nature  portends 
her  elemental  strifes ;  nor  in  human  life  would  we  ask 
the  constant  sunshine  and  uninterrupted  play  of  joy 
ous  feeling.  Development  asks  the  various  alterna 
tions.  The  calm  flow  of  the  river  is  not  its  highest 
beauty.  This  appears  when,  gliding  over  steep  de 
scents,  when,  rushing  over  obstructions,  its  current 
is  broken ;  when  the  cataract  joins  its  diapason  roar 
to  the  wildness  of  the  scene.  So  one  revolution  in 
human  life,  which  exhibits  the  soul  in  more  intense 
thought  and  passion,  calls  out  traits  and  utterances 
which  are  inspired,  and  are  never  forgotten. 

Viewing  the  sorrows  of  life  in  the  relation  of  cause 
and  effect,  it  is  plain  that  a  good  is  done  by  its  min 
istries,  which,  to  those  who  improve  them,  could 
never  have  been  done  in  any  other  form. 

Glancing  over  the  intellectual  riches  descending 
from  this  source,  the  wisdom  which  springs  from  the 
monitory  events  of  life  is  worthy  of  thought.  Each 
pain  is  a  teacher.  Every  disease  is  a  silent  remon 
strance  either  against  ourselves,  or  our  ancestors,  or 
both.  There,  too,  on  the  other  side  of  the  way,  is  a 
man  so  ignorant  that  he  scarcely  knows  the  pleasure 
of  a  thought :  the  passions  of  his  nature  have  groAvn 
unchecked  and  unelevated  by  his  moral  sentiments. 
His  intellectual  eye  has  never  opened  to  the  light  and 
beauty  of  the  world.  He  lies,  fights,  and  steals.  He 
is  the  incarnation  of  personal  and  social  misery.  But 


312  SORROW. 

does  not  a  mighty  reproof  come  from  him  ?  So  far 
as  he  has  reason,  he  is  a  reproof  to  himself.  And  so 
far  as  society  is  responsible  in  allowing  human  beings 
to  grow  up  in  ignorance  from  infancy,  he  is  a  shame 
and  a  reproach  to  the  State.  This  condemned  one  is 
the  condemnation  of  many.  Ireland  is  miserable, 
and  the  ears  of  nations  listen  to  her  cries.  But  who 
ever  looks  at  the  misery  of  Ireland  sees  in  it  the 
indignant  reproof  of  social  and  political  errors.  The 
natural  law  is  that  men  own  the  soil  they  cultivate, 
that  they  be  allowed  both  the  discovery  and  the  sat 
isfaction  of  their  political  wants.  The  unchristian 
idea  of  supporting  a  priesthood  and  a  church  by 
law  receives,  in  the  sufferings  of  that  people,  so  rich 
in  every  resource  of  nature  and  mind,  the  most 
earnest  and  plaintive  remonstrance.  Neither  has 
society  done  its  duty  in  the  proper  education  of  hu 
man  beings.  They  have  not  weighed  the  fact  that 
man  is  moulded  by  surrounding  influences,  and  ac 
cordingly  have  not  sought  to  surround  every  child 
with  the  formative  power  of  the  most  ennobling  cir 
cumstance.  Let  this  law  be  understood,  and  the 
race  at  once  begins  to  ascend. 

Here  and  there  a  sensitive  man  complains  that 
nobody  loves  him,  that  he  meets  nothing  but  the 
love  of  advantage.  For  one  to  be  thus  conscious  is 
doubtless  miserable ;  for  there  is  not  a  king  on  his 
throne  who  is  indifferent  to  the  common  feeling  : 
no,  there  is  not  a  prince  so  grand  as  not  to  feel  a 
gentle  touch  of  dissatisfaction  in  the  scornful  glance 
of  a  beggar,  if  he  knows  that  that  scorn  is  earnest 
and  sincere.  But  this  complaint  of  being  unloved  is 


SORROW. 

the  severe  self-admonition  ;  for  to  love  others  is  the 
surety  of  being  loved.  He  whom  nobody  loves  is 
for  ever  he  who  loves  nobody.  But  to  reprove  error 
in  its  multiform  existence  is  but  one  of  the  ends  to 
which  human  misery  operates. 

Those  serious  facts  which  surround  every  one 
through  each  stage  of  being,  which  we  call  evil, 
contribute  to  yield  that  general  spiritual  element, 
sobriety.  Seriousness  forms  the  far  greater  balance 
over  the  mirthful  and  the  gay.  The  stars  always 
seem  as  serious,  while  the  young  rills  flow  laughingly 
on.  The  ocean,  in  its  mighty  heavings,  makes  you 
serious ;  so  do  mountains,  and  all  the  higher  displays 
of  natural  beauty.  It  is  serious  thought  that  nature 
is  always  evolving.  In  human  life  also  the  same  law 
prevails.  Underneath  our  happiest  mirth,  there  is  a 
calm  fountain  of  sober  thought.  There  is  an  uncer 
tainty  about  all  we  undertake.  The  excess  of  hope 
is  followed  up  by  disappointments,  often  as  thunder 
follows  lightning.  Life  is  a  serious  fact,  so  is  death. 
The  various  sorrows  spread  over  all  things  a  halo  of 
calm  and  profound  seriousness ;  and  we  say  that  this 
is  the  element  in  which  the  riches  of  the  intellect  are 
chiefly  produced.  There  is  a  spiritual  solitude  in 
all  deep  souls,  where  reflection  turns  into  diamond 
and  gold  what  the  senses  have  received.  I  deny  the 
reality  of  any  riches  of  mind  Avhere  the  soul  has  not 
seriously  thought,  where  it  has  not  felt  the  vastness, 
the  solemnity,  and  the  beauty  of  truth  ;  for  it  is  on 
the  mountains  of  this  sober  silence  that  the  highest 
thoughts  are  born.  Deep  fountains  bear  a  shade. 
Love  makes  the  youth  more  sober,  whilst  the  surface 

27 


314  SORROW. 

and  counterfeit  of  the  passion  play  off  in  glee  or  in 
blank  pretension.  Genius,  the  creative  power,  which 
does  by  strokes  and  glances  more  than  the  strongest 
talent  can  do,  is  proverbial  for  its  sombre  hues.  Such 
were  Burns  and  Shakspeare.  Lay  open  the  history 
of  genius  to  the  sun,  and  it  exhibits  a  baptism  of  spir 
itual  trial  not  common  to  the  mass,  in  which  the  fac 
ulties  are  purified  and  energized.  Sacred  genius 
especially,  which  intuitively  sees  the  religious  verities, 
and  sheds  their  light  upon  the  world,  knows  the  sor 
rowful  ;  and  it  has  been  the  lot  of  all  such  to  address 
our  hearts  in  the  subduing  tones  of  virtue  and  truth, 
speaking  from  the  records  of  sorrow  and  grief,  as 
the  life  of  Jesus  and  others  abundantly  teach. 

The  proud  son  of  Mammon,  who  has  felt  himself 
better  than  others,  and  delighted  in  overbearing  airs 
and  acts,  feels  at  last  the  subduing  touch  of  affliction  ; 
for  he  too  has  a  heart,  and  there  are  objects  of  his 
love.  Sorrow  gives  him  new  thoughts  and  feelings. 
His  voice  to  others  changes  and  softens,  and  his  airs 
also  change.  The  harsh  accents  are  modified  by  the 
spirit  of  sympathy  ;  and  the  stars  are  not  more  visible 
than  the  fact,  that  the  intellect  of  this  child  of  pros 
perity  was  never  so  beautiful  before. 

We  owe  to  the  phenomena  of  sorrow  much  of  this 
general  element  of  seriousness,  in  which  the  highest 
forms  of  thought  are  born ;  for  we  cannot  conceive 
that  man  would  think  or  feel  seriously  in  a  universe 
in  which  there  were  no  serious  facts.  Our  age  may 
somewhat  lack  the  true  seriousness,  and  likewise  the 
true  mirth,  which,  where  the  one  is,  will  be  the  other 
also  in  a  corresponding  perfection. 


SORROW.  315 

But  the  riches  of  sorrow  shine  most  in  the  moral 
feelings.  The  rock  is  smitten  by  God's  messenger, 
and  a  pure  fountain  of  sympathy  gushes  forth.  He 
whose  words  were  blasphemous  before,  grow  rever 
ent  now.  Man  then  thinks  of  his  sacred  and  eternal 
relations  more  than  of  his  transient  connections  and 
interests.  Jesus  comes  to  us  in  the  divine  virtues, 
all  of  which  speak  through  trial  and  sorrow.  Love 
and  faith  never  unfold  their  full,  divine  beauty,  until 
tried,  tested,  and  opposed.  The  sublime  trust  of 
Jesus  was  as  the  sun  appearing  out  of  clouds.  Chris 
tianity  baptized  in  trial,  and  crowned  with  the  trustful 
death  of  its  founder,  is  infinitely  more  powerful  and 
beautiful  than  if  its  ideas  had  appeared  in  the  historic 
envelope  of  prosperous  and  brilliant  circumstance. 
We  will  follow  this  view  no  farther,  but  would  pro 
ceed  to  notice  the  fact,  that  human  sorrow,  rightly 
improved,  serves  to  spiritualize  human  happiness. 

Strictly  it  is  the  soul  that  takes  cognizance  of  all 
sorrow  and  suffering.  The  body  feels  not  a  wound 
when  the  mind  is  highly  excited.  It  is  not  body,  but 
mind,  that  chiefly  suffers  and  enjoys.  All  sympathy 
ceases  in  the  corporeal  of  man,  when  mind  is  with 
drawn.  But  the  sensual  seek  to  enjoy  all  through 
the  animal  powers.  Pleasure  and  gratification  they 
seek  rather  than  happiness,  which  more  properly 
signifies  the  conscious  satisfaction  consequent  on  the 
true  manifestation  of  all  the  powers,  the  chief  of 
which  are  spiritual. 

Flowing  along  smoothly,  there  are  sealed  foun 
tains  of  spirit  not  called  forth  ;  but  sorrow  throws  the 
soul  back  upon  itself,  wakes  up  all  the  powers  of 


316  SORROW. 

self-support  and  self-entertainment.  This  is  spiritual 
power ;  it  is  thought  in  new  forms ;  it  is  feeling  in 
new  directions.  The  soul  ascends  from  the  sensual 
entertainments  to  those  higher,  to  its  own  cheerful 
and  dignified  feasts  and  banquets.  The  animal  is . 
more  in  check  ;  the  spiritual  is  let  out  of  its  stupid 
confine.  The  saint,  therefore,  owes  the  grace  and 
elegance  of  his  spirit  much  to  the  influences  of  sorrow 
in  some  form.  A  venerable  father,  of  no  limited 
observation,  once  said  to  me,  "  It  has  never  been  my 
fortune  to  meet  with  very  interesting  persons  in  this 
Avorld,  in  whose  spiritual  history  suffering  had  riot 
been  a  very  essential  part."  Natural  history  affirms 
that  the  wounded  oyster  mends  his  shell  wilh  pearl 
taken  from  out  himself;  and  it  is  from  the  spirit's 
own  pearl  that  the  good  embellish  their  character. 

But  we  are  not  sure  that  we  know  a  tithe  of  the 
benevolence  for  which  the  system  of  things  operates, 
and  of  which  suffering  is  so  great  a  part.  But,  as 
God  is  love,  the  ends  must  be  benevolent ;  though 
an  infinite  range  of  intellect  were  necessary  to  know 
and  comprehend  them  perfectly.  As  all  things  of 
this  life  point  to  the  future,  somewhat  as  infancy 
points  to  manhood,  we  trust  that  the  clearer  wisdom 
of  the  higher  spheres  shall  better  explain  the  sad 
phenomena  of  human  suffering.  It  may  be  that  the 
sympathies  now  developed  are  to  be  called  into  a 
highly  benevolent  requisition  in  the  ministries  of  our 
future  being.  How  far  suffering  enters  into  the 
discipline  of  other  worlds  no  one  may  say ;  but  to 
possess  the  similarity  of  experience  necessary  to  the 
complete  union  and  fraternity  of  minds  hereafter, 


SORROW.  317 

which  should  be  wide  enough  to  unite  the  intelligent 
empire  of  God,  it  must  be  co-extensive  with  the 
rational  and  moral  nature  which  forms  the  image  of 
God  throughout  the  infinite  space.  Our  faith  points 
us  to  this  inference  of  the  indefinite  expansion  of  the 
utility  of  this  part  of  our  experience  in  the  future 
world,  since  that  life  is  the  indefinite  expansion  of  all 
the  good  here  gained. 

But  this  varied  phenomenon  of  the  world  is  beauti 
ful.  There  is  eloquent  feeling  in  the  joyous  laugh. 
It  breathes  also  in  the  sigh,  and  brightens  in  the  tear. 
Day  is  glorious  through  the  sun,  and  night  through 
the  moon  and  stars.  In  its  shades,  not  only  new 
worlds  are  seen,  but  those  farther  distanced  than  the 
day-orb,  whose  splendor  will  not  let  them  be  known. 
I  say  they  are  farther  off,  and  are  discovered  in  more 
quietness,  than  the  busy  day  admits.  So  sorrow  un 
rolls  new  heavens  in  the  character.  Far-off  truths 
radiate  their  light  upon  us,  and  all  this  in  the  greater 
silence  of  a  sobered  meditation.  It  is  not  easy  to 
say  which  is  richer,  the  golden  leaf  of  October  or 
the  green  foliage  of  June  :  each  beautifies  its  season, 
though  the  one  is  life,  and  the  other  is  death.  I  love 
to  see  the  lonely  grandeur  of  forests,  and  fields  of 
grain ;  but  perhaps  the  greater  interest  comes  when 
the  branches  wave  in  the  winds,  and  the  great  fields 
seem  as  a  waving  sea  through  the  stirring  breeze.  Thus 
the  persons  of  this  world  have  not  most  interest  when 
all  is  still,  but  when  humanity  is  stirred  by  trial, 
when  all  its  powers  wave  to  the  winds  of  opposing 
influence.  The  rainbow  arches  the  heaven  against 
the  sun.  We  admire  its  colors,  and  call  it  the  per- 
27* 


318  SORROW. 

feet  part  of  an  uncompleted  circle.  But  the  beau 
teous  bow  owes  its  being  to  the  dark  cloud,  its  falling 
rain,  and  the  sunshine  radiating  each  drop.  Good 
symbol  this  of  the  idea  intended.  There  is  a  beauty 
which  comes  of  sorrow,  a  promise,  which,  like  the 
part  of  a  circle,  reminds  one  of  the  whole.  We 
have  often  asked  the  wise  to  account  for  the  smile 
which  quite  often  is  left  on  the  face  of  the  dead ;  and 
the  idea  which  strikes  the  imagination  in  the  color 
of  probability  is  that  its  cause  is  mental ;  that  the 
mind  has  left  upon  the  countenance  its  own  impres- 
^ion  while  receiving  the  light  of  the  immortal  world. 
It  appears  as  the  smile  of  a  departing  spirit  on  its 
temple  of  clay,  which  it  leaves  for  a  more  perfect 
mansion. 

I  have  spoken  of  human  misery  in  its  sources  and 
results ;  and  I  would  add  a  few  remarks  on  the  man 
ner  in  which  its  facts  should  be  met.  On  this  depends 
much,  since  it  involves  the  principle  on  which  its 
good  or  evil  mainly  depends.  I  would  say,  do  not 
allow  it  to  overwhelm  you.  Be  superior  to  it  as  far 
as  possible.  Meet  the  inevitable,  in  all  the  energy 
and  calmness  the  soul  can  command.  There  is  a 
blending  of  meekness  and  power  in  which  you  should 
breast  the  storm. 

I  would  also  say,  study  well  the  law  of  happiness 
which  a  given  sorrow  involves ;  and,  if  that  law  is 
within  your  reach,  place  yourself  upon  it,  as  the  lost 
at  sea  would  plant  their  feet  upon  an  island  or  on  the 
brown  floor  of  a  rock  above  the  waves.  Seek  not 
insensibility  to  the  evils  of  life.  The  cold  indifference 
i*  but  affectation  ;  the  breast  of  marble  and  the  face 


SORROW. 


319 


of  iron  are  perversions  of  what  is  good  and  richest 
within  us.  Learn,  above  all  things,  learn  the  Crea 
tor's  law  within  you.  Obey  that  law  as  Heaven's 
condition  of  happiness. 

I  would  say,  meet  evil  Jesus-like.  Meet  it  in 
faith,  —  faith  in  the  divine  end  to  which  sorrows 
work.  God  does  not  pause  to  say  what  he  intends, 
but  works  on  in  silence  and  for  ever.  But  thou  art 
a  soul.  Thou  art  God's  immortal  incarnated  ;  and 
to  thee  all  providence  turns.  All  worlds  in  the  inno 
cent  space  are  looking  unto  thee.  All  law,  order, 
and  beauty  in  nature  concern  thee.  Thou  art  .the 
End.  All  scenes,  all  events,  become  thy  ministers  of 
good.  The  facts  of  sorrow  are  thy  facts.  Subordi 
nate  them  at  once  to  thy  good,  lest  they  subordinate 
thee.  Oat  in  the  wild  parterre  of  nature  blooms  a 
wild  flower  in  the  deep  shadow  of  night,  whose  leaves 
close  at  the  dawning  of  the  sun.  Such  are  many 
virtues,  whose  seeds  are  in  the  bosom  sown.  To  the 
stars  of  sorrow's  nightly  hour  their  beauty  blooms. 
The  life  of  faith  is  holy  ;  and  it  may,  like  the  swan  of 
Apollo,  be  breathed  out  in  song  most  rich  hi  the  last 
and  dying  strain. 


320 


THE  IMMORTAL  LIFE. 


THE  hope  of  man  enters  the  Infinite.  Endless  time 
and  the  Supreme  Good  are  alone  its  measure.  In 
various  forms  the  idea  of  immortality  is  unfolded  in 
the  millions  of  the  race ;  and,  striking  deep  root  into 
nature's  soil,  it  overshadows  the  nations,  somewhat 
as  the  forest-oak  shades  the  plants  at  its  feet.  There 
is  no  truth  more  natural  than  this.  Though  gross 
superstitions  may  have  weighed  it  down,  and  sub 
serviency  to  the  animal  man  may  have  obscured  its 
light  for  a  time,  yet  the  great  fact  is  never  effaced. 
From  out  of  sorrow,  error,  sin,  it  always  speaks  as 
the  prophet  of  the  soul.  Sophistry  may  darken  this 
oracle,  as  clouds  and  vapors  obscure  the  loveliness 
of  the  vale ;  but,  like  those,  it  disappears,  leaving 
the  original  truth  to  shine  in  its  natural  dignity  and 
primitive  grandeur. 

This  question  of  immortality  is  a  problem  to  man. 
No  race  below  him  gives  evidence  of  even  an  in 
stinctive  thought  upon  it.  The  fact,  that  the  human 
race  entertain  this  question  with  all  its  logical  diffi 
culties,  the  fact  that  they  have  felt  its  solution  import 
ant,  proves  that  the  subject  rightly  belongs  to  the 
human  sphere.  Unless  human  nature  is  united  to 
this  truth,  I  perceive  no  reason  why  the  question 


THE    IMMORTAL    LIFE. 

should  ever  have  been  entertained.  The  instinctive 
tribes  are  troubled  with  no  science  above  their  na 
tures,  with  no  questions  out  of  their  spheres.  This 
fact  alone,  that  we  feel  the  problem  forced  upon  us, 
that  we  wrestle  with  its  difficulties,  and  stand  in  awe 
before  its  shadowing  mystery,  intimates  that  to  the 
immortal  we  are  born.  Otherwise  why  should  the 
problem  perplex  us  ?  Can  astronomy,  as  a  science, 
disturb  the  swan  ?  No  more,  indeed,  could  the  idea 
of  immortality  incite  in  us  hopes  or  fears,  except  our 
natures  were  equal  to  the  fact  itself. 

This  sentiment,  instead  of  being  a  curious  specula 
tion,  seems  to  lie  near  the  fountain  of  morals  and 
religion.  A  moral  principle  is,  from  its  nature,  ever 
lasting  ;  nor  can  it  fitly  apply  to  mere  animals  that 
perish.  Religion  implies  worship  and  hope  towards 
a  Divinity  who  is  eternal.  But,  if  human  nature  is 
a  transient  combination  of  animal  life,  with  no  future 
before  it,  what  moral  alliance  can  it  possibly  have 
with  the  Everlasting,  either  as  Divinity  or  as  law  ? 
There  are,  as  all  admit,  everlasting  laws  and  truths. 
Nature  itself  unfolds  these.  And  must  not  man,  the 
only  being  able  to  interpret  and  understand  ever 
lasting  truths  and  laws,  have  that  within  himself 
which  is  as  imperishable  as  the  laws  he  compre 
hends  ?  Once  blot  out  immortality  from  the  nature 
of  man,  and  I  see  not  from  what  morals  or  religion 
can  proceed.  The  whole  horizon  of  existence  is 
covered  with  thick  and  impenetrable  darkness.  God 
is  not,  and  humanity  falls  under  the  same  laws  that 
reign  over  the  life  and  destiny  of  mere  animal  ex 
istence. 


322  THE    IMMORTAL    LIFE. 

But  it  is  unnecessary  to  state  the  importance  of  a 
subject  around  which  the  solemn  solicitudes  of  man 
kind  so  thickly  gather.  We  find  this  great  hope 
in  the  world ;  whilst  it  is  philosophically  clear,  that 
the  form  in  which  it  is  held  reflects  the  mental, 
and  to  some  extent  the  moral,  state  of  a  people. 
If  it  assume  gross  forms  of  sensuous  imagery,  it 
proves  a  people  to  be  under  the  predominance  of  the 
sensuous,  of  imagination  and  passion.  The  Indian 
can  do  no  better  than  to  cherish  a  joyful  vieAv  of  his 
wild,  unbounded  forest,  with  abundant  game  ;  whilst 
the  greater  part  of  our  popular  description,  though 
it  intimates  that  we  are  still  swayed  by  the  glare  of 
the  senses,  exhibits,  we  think,  a  decided  improve 
ment  over  former  times. 

Before  argument  is  attempted  on  this  subject,  the 
question  should  be  settled,  What  is  the  basis  of  the 
Immortal  Life  ?  From  what  source  does  immortality 
proceed  ?  The  right  determination  of  this  question 
corrects  an  error  by  far  too  common,  —  I  mean  the 
practice  of  treating  the  doctrine  of  immortality  as  a 
future,  and  not  as  a  present  fact ;  as  something  iso 
lated  from  what  man  now  is,  rather  than  as  growing 
out  of  his  present  capacity.  It  is  too  much  regarded 
as  an  addition  yet  to  be  made  to  the  human  powers. 
To  this  view  I  object,  not  only  because  it  denies 
the  real  and  the  natural  foundation  of  the  greatest 
truth,  but  because  it  obscures  a  principal  source  of 
evidence  whence  this  truth  is  established. 

I  claim  that  the  subjective  view  of  this  topic  is 
most  unanswerable.  We  affirm  immortality  of  the 
nature  of  man.  But  why  do  we  affirm  or  deny  ? 


THE    IMMORTAL    LIFE.  323 

The  reasons  for  doing  either  must  be  justified  by  what 
may  be  known  of  the  being  of  whom  the  affirmation 
or  the  denial  is  made.    I  would  apply  to  this  subject 
a  general  principle  of  the  creation,  which  must  win 
our  confidence  the  more  it  is  examined.     It  is  this. 
The  Creator  founds  in  the  nature  of  every  being  and 
object  he  creates  the  full  capacity  of  answering  the 
ends  for  which  those  beings  and  objects  are  made. 
The  various  ends  answered  by  the  air,  earth,  water, 
sun,  are  corresponded  to  by  the  inherent  qualities 
these  objects  possess.     The  same  is  true  of  every 
animal  function  and  of  every  being.     What  can  you 
name  that  does  not  come  under  this  law  ?     Is  there 
a  single  agency  of  the  creation  outside  of  it  ?     I 
know  not  where  to  find  it.     The  Creator  himself  is 
within  its  infinite  range ;  for  all  that  he  has  done, 
is  doing,  or  may  do,  all  that  he  purposes  and  fulfils,  is 
corresponded   to   by   the   attributes   and   properties 
which  make  him  God.     In  him  is  the  capacity  for 
all  his  ends.     And  in  all  that  he  creates,  from  the 
simplest  element  up  to  the  sublimest  agency,  he  be 
stows  the  properties  essential  to  the  ends  he  seeks  to 
fulfil.     Accordingly,  the  artist,  wise  by  observation, 
and  from  an  experience  of  the  conditions  of  things, 
always  lays  in  his  various  structures  and  creations 
the  forms  and  properties  necessary  to  the  purposes  to 
be  accomplished.     Standing,  therefore,  on  the  firm 
and  impregnable  basis  of  this,  the  Creator's  illimi 
table  law,  I  affirm,  that,  if  immortality  is  the  end,  or 
even  an  end,  of  man's  being,  the  capacities  necessary 
to  its  full  realization  are  founded  in  him,  are  inherent 
in  his  nature.     The  oak  lies  in  the  acorn.     It  cannot 


324  THE    IMMORTAL    LIFE. 

be  that  a  purpose  so  grand  is  isolated  from  the  nature 
of  the  being  to  whom  it  refers.  The  end  and  the 
means  are  both  in  him.  The  fountain  whence  the 
stream  of  immortality  flows  is  in  man,  else  the  present 
subject  is  out  of  the  legitimate  range  of  the  human 
hopes  and  powers. 

Revelation  brings  life  and  immortality  to  light. 
But  whenever  its  various  affirmations  amount  to  the 
proposition,  "  Man  is  immortal,"  it  is  implied  at  bot 
tom  that  man  is  the  continent  of  the  capacities  of 
which  the  assurance  is  made ;  as  clearly,  indeed,  as 
if  one  should  say,  "  The  rock  is  hard,"  "  The  foun 
tain  is  pure."  As  it  is  the  province  of  revelation 
to  discover  and  not  to  create  truth,  it  must  find  in 
humanity  all  the  truth  it  affirms  concerning  it ;  so 
that  the  assurances  of  written  revelation,  as  well  as 
the  facts  of  consciousness,  and  the  teaching  of  the 
universal  law  but  just  announced,  conspire  to  prove 
that  humanity  is  the  source  and  basis  of  this  great 
truth,  that  it  rests  on  nothing  creatively  miraculous 
yet  to  be  done.  Bui,  as  God  knows  infinitely  more 
of  our  nature  than  we  ourselves,  his  assuring  voice 
must  triumph  over  our  doubts  and  fears,  although  it 
be  but  the  infallible  expression  of  a  truth  he  has 
sown  in  humanity,  in  having  formed  it  after  the  image 
of  his  own  mind. 

If  man  is  wholly  mortal,  or  in  his  human  faculties 
immortal,  he  is  so  by  a  power  higher  than  himself; 
he  is  so  by  the  Creator's  will.  And,  though  I  would 
not  speak  of  capacity  in  man  or  in  the  least  created 
thing  as  being  for  a  moment  independent  of  him,  yet 
it  is  plain  that  the  will  of  God  is  written  out,  to  no 


THE    IMMORTAL   LIFE.  325 

common  extent,  in  the  things  he  has  made.  Is  not 
the  will  of  God,  that  day  should  be  dispensed  to 
mankind,  written  out  in  the  nature  and  offices  of  the 
sun  ?  And,  however  complicated  the  phenomena 
and  mystery  of  man,  is  not  the  Divine  will  concern 
ing  his  connection  with  a  future  state  written  out  in 
those  elements  of  being  his  nature  combines  ?  As 
we  may  affirm  nothing  of  vegetable  life  which  a 
knowledge  of  that  life  will  not  justify  ;  as  we  would, 
in  the  course  of  a  just  reasoning,  allege  nothing  of 
any  object  which  a  knowledge  of  it  would  not  con 
firm  ;  so  all  questions  touching  human  nature  must 
be  brought  to  the  test  of  this  nature,  must  be  con 
firmed  or  overthrown  by  what  may  be  learned  con 
cerning  it.  To  depart  from  this  rule  would,  on  every 
other  subject,  be  deemed  unsafe. 

Still  we  meet  those  who  firmly  believe  in  the  im 
mortal  life  from  the  assurances  of  revelation ;  who ' 
say,  that  the  natural  evidences,  independent  of  this, 
would  have  led  them  to  the  contrary  conclusion. 
This  admission  is  evidently  too  great ;  for  it  not  only 
confesses  a  great  antagonism  between  these  two' 
methods  of  the  divine  teaching,  but  it  prevents  the 
revealed  truth  from  finding  any  confirmations  in  the 
outward  universe  and  in  the  human  mind.  For 
the  nature  of  man,  which  is  said  to  teach  a  contrary 
view  before  revelation  authoritatively  decides,  re 
maining  the  same  afterwards,  cannot  confirm  an 
opposite  view,  except  on  the  ground  that  it  was  pre 
viously  misinterpreted  and  misunderstood,  which 
implies  the  presence  of  a  truth  to  misinterpret  and 
misunderstand,  which  was  in  reality  the  evidence  of 
28 


326  THE    IMMORTAL    LIFE. 

the  truth  that  revelation  brought.  But  if  nature, 
rightly  interpreted,  justifies  the  contrary  conclusion, 
what  can  ever  win  her  over  to  the  support  of  the 
divine  message  ?  What  can  ever  harmonize  the 
antagonism  of  the  two?  In  the  remarks  here  offered, 
I  choose  to  express  what  to  me  are  the  great  and 
striking  evidences  of  human  immortality  as  contained 
in  the  life  and  being  of  man. 

1.  And  the  first  evidence  I  would  name  is  the 
simple  fact  of  worship.  To  me  this  is  one  of  the 
clearest  and  strongest  evidences.  "Worship,  though 
modified  in  its  forms  by  education,  has  its  spring  in 
the  human  heart.  That  this  is  its  source,  is  evident 
from  its  permanence  and  universality.  It  everywhere 
satisfies  a  spiritual  want.  If  the  history  of  the  world 
is  at  all  instructive,  it  proves  that  man  by  nature  is  a 
worshipper,  as  clearly  as  it  proves  him  a  reasoner.  It 
"is  true  he  has  worshipped  falsely.  He  has  reasoned 
also  as  falsely  as  he  has  worshipped.  But  he  has 
still  a  rational  nature,  else  the  erroneous  philosophies 
had  never  existed.  He  has  likewise  a  religious 
nature,  else  the  false  worships  had  never  been.  No 
priest  could  ever  have  led  his  race  to  the  altars  of 
religion,  had  not  the  human  heart,  independent  of  his 
teachings,  prompted  a  sacred  devotion  and  homage. 
The  various  religious  phenomena  of  the  world  might 
as  naturally  have  burst  forth  from  the  animal  races 
as  from  man,  provided  the  premises  here  stated  are 
untrue.  As  no  fact  in  human  nature  is  more  perma 
nent  in  its  history  than  worship,  so  there  is  none 
from  which  a  great  conclusion  may  be  more  safely 
drawn. 


THE    IMMORTAL    LIFE,  327 

Now,  what  does  worship  imply  ?  Always  it  im 
plies  an  object,  a  Divinity.  Worship  looks  upward  ; 
and  in  its  superlative  degree,  to  which  its  tendency 
must  naturally  come,  it  recognizes  a  Supreme.  If 
no  revelation  had  revealed  the  being  of  God  to  any 
portion  of  the  race,  this  sacred  instinct  of  the  soul 
had  turned  mankind  into  worshippers,  into  seekers 
after  a  Divinity,  a  God  ;  and,  to  the  eye  of  reason, 
the  correspondence  existing  between  all  the  known 
wants  of  body  and  mind,  and  the  existence  of  their 
satisfying  objects,  had  rendered  it  a  just  inference, 
that  the  fact  of  worship  in  man's  life  is  corresponded 
to  by  a  real  Divinity,  a  Being  worthy  of  the  supreme 
homage,  although  the  clear  knowledge  of  that  Being 
might  not  have  existed  in  their  minds.  But  I  will 
not  pause  to  substantiate  by  evidences  this  greatest 
idea  of  natural  and  revealed  religion ;  it  being  settled 
in  the  conscious  faith  of  mankind,  I  assume  it  as  a 
fact.  Now,  the  idea  of  a  Supreme  God  is  that  he  is 
infinite  and  immortal.  Before  such  a  Being  the  soul 
bows  in  worship.  To  him  it  aspires.  In  his  great 
ness  and  goodness  it  rests. 

Now  let  us  seek  to  account  for  this  fact.  Whence 
came  this  capacity  to  worship  the  great  Source  of 
the  universe  and  of  man  ?  Whence  this  ability  to 
know  and  love  the  Immortal,  the  Infinite  ?  Plainly 
it  is  implied  that  worship  cannot  exist  in  man  towards 
God,  except  on  the  ground  that  he  has  kindred 
powers  to  the  Divinity  he  adores.  No  truth  is  more 
irresistible  than  this.  Why  is  the  animal  incapable 
of  paying  homage  to  God  ?  Why  may  he  not 
adore  the  philosopher  of  our  race  ?  Evidently  be- 


328  THE    IMMORTAL    LIFE. 

cause  he  is  destitute  of  the  powers  that  are  neces 
sary  to  bring  him  into  the  range  of  divine  and  human 
intellect.  The  worshipper,  to  be  really  such,  must 
have  a  kindredness  of  nature  and  of  moral  attribute. 
Who  could  adore  the  wisdom,  love,  and  righteous 
ness  of  God,  without  similar  sentiments  in  his  own 
breast,  though  existing  in  imperfect  forms  ?  It  were 
utterly  impossible.  God  appears  to  be  the  infinite 
condition  of  our  own  spiritual  powers,  and  may 
therefore  be  worshipped  by  all.  When  I  behold  the 
millions  of  our  race  seeking  the  Eternal  and  the  In 
finite  as  the  satisfaction  of  an  inward  want,  as  the  end 
of  their  highest  hopes  and  love,  I  cannot  but  see  in 
such  a  worship  the  infallible  proof  that  human  nature 
is  allied  to  the  Divinity  it  approaches ;  that  the  kin 
dred  nature,  which  this  free  and  spiritual  worship 
implies,  places  the  immortality  of  the  worshipper  and 
of  the  being  worshipped  on  the  same  firm  and  im 
movable  basis.  We  are  thankful  for  the  light  shed  on 
this  mysterious  problem  by  this  simple  fact,  proving 
the  native  alliance  of  the  soul  to  God. 

2.  The  sense  of  the  Infinite  in  human  nature  is  a 
faithful  witness  to  this  truth.  It  may  be  difficult  to 
state  the  manner  in  which  this  feeling  unfolds  in  the 
human  race ;  but  there  are  many  evidences  con 
vincing  us  of  its  presence.  It  does  not  belong  to 
the  culture  of  the  modern  ages  exclusively;  for  it 
found  expression  in  the  prayers  and  worship  of  the 
earlier  ages.  It  is  said  that  the  Oriental  mind  began 
with  the  Infinite  in  its  reasonings ;  that  it  was  their 
chief  and  central  thought.  This  homage  to  an  Infi 
nite  Power,  so  strongly  characteristic  of  the  primitive 


THE    IMMORTAL   LIFE.  329 

ages,  this  perception  of  an  illimitable  Wisdom  as 
working  in  space,  this  idea  of  an  infinite  Care  or 
Goodness,  which  the  higher  forms  of  piety  assume, 
convince  us  that  the  soul  has  in  itself  the  germs  of 
a  spiritual  infinitude,  of  a  limitless  expansion  and 
growth.  Man  is  probably  first  impressed  with  a 
material,  an  external  immensity.  He  cannot  fix 
limits  to  space.  He  is  obliged  to  imagine  worlds 
beyond  those  he  sees.  He  cannot  measure  time. 
He  perceives  that  he  knows  but  a  little  of  the  un 
bounded  truth  and  science  the  universe  contains. 
Thus  do  the  externals  of  the  creation  impress  man, 
and  the  sense  of  the  Infinite  unfolds  under  their 
influence.  Nature  is  from  the  Infinite.  How,  there 
fore,  can  it  fail  to  suggest  the  idea  of  Infinity  ?  But 
man  alone  is  able  to  receive  it.  He  alone  perceives 
a  universe.  He  has  that  within  him  to  which  the  ex 
ternal  infinitude  addresses  itself,  a  mind  partaking  of 
the  faculties  of  Him  whence  the  immensity  of  nature 
sprung;  and  which,  being  kindred  to  the  Original 
Infinite,  awakes  to  and  expands  under  the  infinitude 
of  the  creation.  There  is  also  an  infinite  of  mind, 
of  spirit,  to  which  man  rises  in  his  higher  contempla 
tions  ;  and  if  the  Infinite  of  God,  of  which  the  crea 
tion  is  but  the  partial  display,  is  immortal  and  death 
less,  then  must  the  kindred  nature  in  man  which 
looks  up  to  the  Infinite,  which  calmly  looks  out 
upon  its  sublimity,  be  immortal  also.  The  more  we 
examine  the  human  soul,  the  more  striking  and 
numerous  do  the  evidences  become,  that  it  was  made 
in  the  image  of  God ;  and,  as  we  think,  every 
evidence  that  proves  the  being  of  God,  and  the  con- 

28* 


330  THE    IMMORTAL   LIFE. 

stitutional  alliance  of  man's  nature  with  his,  is 
unanswerable  testimony  in  favor  of  human  immor 
tality.  For  the  educational  circumstances  which 
surround  our  nature  create  nothing  of  the  soul,  but 
simply  develop  its  inherent  powers. 

3.  I  proceed  to  state  another  evidence  of  human 
immortality  which  I  find  in  the  existence  of  the  hope 
which  affirms  it.  There  is  a  vast  hope  in  the  world. 
In  numberless  forms  of  sensible  imagery,  it  has  found 
expression.  No  large  portions  of  the  human  race 
are  without  it ;  and  it  has  been  generally  believed, 
that  under  every  sky  its  light  has  dawned  on  the 
human  heart.  Where  the  Hebrew  and  the  Christian 
Scriptures  have  never  been  read  or  known,  its  power 
and  greatness  are  revealed.  It  beats  in  the  heart  of 
the  race,  and  glows  in  the  consolations  of  the  world. 
It  is  always  an  element  of  every  religion.  It  is  vast, 
and  its  roots  are  in  the  soul  itself. 

Now  as  a  phenomenon  of  the  soul  is  this  hope  to 
be  contemplated.  How  came  there  to  grow  on  the 
tree  of  humanity  such  fruit  as  this  ?  Some  unison 
must  exist  between  the  two.  "  We  gather  not  grapes 
from  thorns."  Man  is  the  only  being  on  this  planet 
from  whose  nature  such  hope  is  evolved ;  and  from 
the  natural  union  which  must  for  ever  exist  between 
a  cause  and  its  effect,  we  are  obliged  to  recognize 
in  the  greatness  of  the  hope  an  antecedent  and  cor 
responding  greatness  in  the  soul  which  bears  it.  The 
tree  is  not  less  than  its  fruit,  nor  is  the  fountain  less 
than  its  streams. 

A  great  hope  irresistibly  implies  a  great  capacity. 
The  bee,  so  to  speak,  may  hope  to  build  its  cell,  and 


THE    IMMORTAL   LIFE.  331 

it  has  the  power  to  do  so ;  but  it  has  no  ability  to 
hope,  any  more  than  it  has  to  realize  the  erection  of 
a  palace,  or  the  solution  of  a  mathematical  problem. 
Here  is  a  general  law.  It  belongs  to  all  the  races 
endowed  with  life  and  voluntary  motion.  The  Crea 
tor  has  caused  a  connection  to  exist  between  the 
power  of  expectancy  and  the  power  of  accomplish 
ment  in  all  the  living,  active  races  below  man  ^  and 
we  have  reason  to  think  that  the  same  law  includes 
him.  God  has  given  to  no  race  a  hope  beyond  its 
proper  sphere.  And  the  same  just  and  benevolent 
law  applied  to  him  teaches  us,  that  the  grandeur  and 
vastness  of  human  hope  are  corresponded  to  by  a 
similar  grandeur  and  vastness  of  human  nature.  If 
the  immortal  life  had  been  too  great  for  man  to 
realize,  he  had  been  too  small  to  have  ever  hoped  it. 
Human  hope  never  was,  and  never  can  be,  greater 
than  the  human  soul. 

I  know  it  may  be  said,  that  the  particular  hopes 
of  men  in  the  present  life  often  prove  impractical ; 
that  they  hope  for  more  than  they  can  reach.  This 
is  true.  Still  I  hold  that  the  premises  heretofore  laid 
down  are  unembarrassed  by  this  admission.  For 
the  methods  coming  between  the  particular  expecta 
tion  and  its  fulfilment  may  be  badly  chosen,  whilst 
the  wisdom  of  necessary  experience  may  be  unpos 
sessed  ;  whereas  the  mere  fact  of  a  future  existence 
is  not  dependent  on  human  methods.  But  even  here 
men  do  not  hope  impossibilities.  It  will  be  found 
that  they  do  not  hope  against  their  knowledge  ;  and 
that,  though  ordained  to  learn  the  extent  of  their 
powers  by  effort,  there  is  a  generally  true  corre- 


THE    IMMORTAL   LIFE, 

spondence  between  what  individuals  hope  to  accom 
plish,  and  what  human  power  wisely  applied  may 
achieve.  It  is  impossible  that  an  intelligent  man 
should  expect  to  carry  the  Alps,  or  to  do  any  thing 
beyond  the  reach  of  human  skill.  But  it  is  the  race 
that  hopes  in  immortality ;  and  if  there  is  creative 
wisdom  in  the  manner  in  which  Deity  balances  the 
nature  and  hopeful  tendency  of  the  portions  of  the 
creation  we  know,  if  there  is  a  sound  connection  be 
tween  a  moral  cause  and  its  result,  then  is  the  exist 
ence  of  so  vast  a  hope  in  human  history  an  evidence 
of  the  capacity  of  human  nature  to  realize  it.  Indeed, 
we  may  suppose  that  all  universal  convictions  are 
grounded  in  truth,  though  their  particular  forms  and 
manner  may  partake  of  the  weaknesses  which  apper 
tain  to  the  various  educational  states  of  the  human 
mind. 

4.  This  doctrine  is  also  confirmed  by  the  supreme 
value  of  mind.  If  we  raise  the  question,  Which  is 
worth  most,  material  substance  and  possession,  or  the 
immaterial  mind  ?  our  answer,  whether  negative  or 
affirmative,  decides  in  favor  of  the  supremacy  of 
mental  worth,  from  the  fact  that  it  is  mind  alone  that 
comprehends  and  decides,  that  compares  and  judges, 
that  accumulates  and  governs  the  material  posses 
sions.  That  which  decides  and  governs  is  certainly 
first.  If  we  contemplate  nature  as  the  work  of  Infi 
nite  Mind,  what  does  it  declare  more  plainly  than 
the  idea  of  this  supremacy  of  mental  worth  as  prior 
to,  and  causative  of,  all  other  worth  ?  If  we  view 
the  various  arts  of  man,  his  governments,  sciences, 
and  right  methods  of  life,  as  proceeding  from  his 


THE    IMMORTAL   LIFE. 

mental  powers,  the  same  thought  is  permanently 
confirmed.  What  means  this  veneration  to  the  past  ? 
It  is  but  homage  to  ancient  mind.  What  signifies 
this  deep  reverence  of  great  men,  of  good  men  ? 
What  is  taught  by  the  glory  of  sages  and  of  martyrs  ? 
Why  is  the  memorial  of  virtue  everlasting  ?  What 
is  implied  in  the  worth  of  character,  in  the  value  of 
freedom  and  education  ?  All  such  questions  are 
based  on  the  principle  assumed  ;  for  the  great  man 
is  but  the  excellence  and  vigor  of  mental  nature 
freely  manifested.  The  good  man,  the  sage,  are  but 
living  statements  that  mind  rightly  acting  is  the  only 
wealth.  Character  is  only  a  name  for  a  mental 
state.  Education  and  freedom  must  for  ever  derive 
their  dignity  and  importance  from  the  worth  of  the 
nature  to  be  educated  and  to  be  freed.  Where,  I 
ask,  can  you  place  yourself,  either  in  imagination  or 
person,  in  all  this  universe,  and  not  read  this  sublime 
lesson,  the  supreme  value  of  mind  ?  Where,  amongst 
this  world's  worships,  struggles,  ruins,  ambitions, 
enterprises,  can  you  find  a  place  for  your  foot  to 
rest,  that  does  not  preach  to  you  this  thought  ? 
There  is  not  an  inch  of  inhabited  space  that  does  not 
teach  it. 

p 

This  view,  however,  as  an  argument  for  the  soul's 
immortality,  grows  stronger  when  considered  in  con 
nection  with  what  we  most  assuredly  know,  —  the 
economy  of  the  material  world.  All  the  laws  acd 
agencies  here  are  conservative.  Nothing  is  lost. 
Substance  never  dies.  Elements  never  perish.  The 
administrative  economy  of  the  universe  has  never 
allowed  one  particle  of  its  material  wealth  to  be 


334  THE    IMMORTAL   LIFE. 

lost.  The  play  of  life  and  death  is  but  the  changing 
modes  through  which  the  Infinite  Wisdom  contrives 
to  make  the  capital  of  nature  most  variously  useful. 
Since,  therefore,  the  conservative  policy  of  the  uni 
verse,  so  far  as  we  may  know  its  laws  and  agencies, 
is  well  established,  since  economy  always  implies 
that  the  highest  value  is  not  Avasted,  and  since  all 
things  conspire  to  teach  that  the  supreme  worth  of 
man  consists  in  the  mind  he  exercises,  I  ask  if  it 
is  not  strangely  absurd  to  suppose  that  the  conserva 
tive  policy  of  the  Highest  should  for  ever  retain 
every  particle  of  his  material  being,  whilst  it  pours 
out  into  eternal  wastefulness  and  nonentity  all  that 
belongs  to  his  intelligent  and  moral  nature  ?  Will 
that  policy  allow  all  virtue,  wisdom,  character,  to  be 
lost  by  the  death-agency,  when,  in  every  other  in 
stance,  that  agency  dissolves  without  destroying  the 
elements  ?  Will  it  waste  its  gold,  and  retain  its 
dust  ?  Elements  material,  once  dissolved,  may 
re-appear  in  other  forms.  But,  if  mind  dissolves, 
how  may  it  re-appear  ?  Inasmuch  as  matter  cannot 
absorb  and  incorporate  its  elements  of  thought  and 
affection  into  its  own  growth  through  any  power  it 
has,  it  follows  that  a  total  extinction  or  a  total  con 
tinuation  of  the  powers  crowns  the  last  event  in 
life's  mysterious  drama.  And,  if  the  former  fact 
occurs,  it  not  only  exhibits  a  waste  of  the  supreme 
value,  but  it  stands  alone,  unrepresented  by  a  single 
symbol  or  fact  of  the  whole  natural  world.  That 
the  only  part  of  our  nature  which  contains  the  capa 
city  of  intelligence,  of  hope,  of  virtue,  that  which  is 
lord  of  the  flesh  and  the  originator  of  the  plans  of 


THE    IMMORTAL   LIFE.  335 

life,  should  be  doomed  to  annihilation,  whilst  each 
particle  of  the  materialism  it  governs  is  for  ever  pre 
served,  —  and  this  in  a  universe  whose  every  law, 
beauty,  truth,  order,  agency,  addresses  the  mind  as 
its  great  and  practical  end,  —  is  to  us  the  most  un- 
philosophically  absurd  of  all  absurdities. 

5.  We  are  led  by  what  is  more  certain  than  logic 
to  expect  that  there  is  an  end,  an  ultimatum  pertaining 
to  human  life,  to  which  the  present  varieties  of  edu 
cational  circumstances  are  but  means.  I  say  that 
we  are  thus  led  by  what  is  deeper  and  better  than 
logic.  For  the  very  logic  of  existence,  of  simple 
acts  and  conditions,  thus  leads  us.  Every  voluntary 
action  and  series  of  actions  are  supposed  to  imply  a 
definite  end.  Even  the  conscious  joys  and  sportive 
acts  of  childhood  fulfil  an  end,  which  is  the  health 
and  growth  of  the  child,  though  he  may  purpose  no 
such  result.  We  find  by  experience  that  the  same 
is  true  of  our  unconscious  movements,  when  we  are 
least  aware  of  having  a  purpose.  Taught  by  this 
real  and  true  philosophy,  which  God  weaves  into  his 
works  and  into  the  very  conditions  of  life,  we  rise  to 
the  inquiry,  What  is  the  end  to  which  this  great  array 
of  means  ministers  ?  What  is  the  end  of  life,  of 
man  ?  taking  for  granted  all  the  time  that  life  and 
nature  have  an  end,  that  it  cannot  be  otherwise.  In 
answering  these  questions,  we  are  assisted,  —  1.  By 
the  Scripture  declaration  that  God  has  given  man 
dominion  over  his  works,  over  all  that  is  on  the  land 
and  in  the  sea.  2.  By  the  fact  of  experience  and 
observation,  that  man,  by  his  energy  and  wisdom, 
proves  himself  to  be  the  chief  being,  the  greater  than 


336  THE    IMMORTAL   LIFE. 

all  the  elements  and  races  surrounding  him.  3.  We 
learn  in  the  analysis  of  human  development,  that  the 
external  universe  and  the  circle  of  surrounding 
circumstances  have  contributed  to  the  formation  and 
growth  of  mind  as  their  chief  end.  We  can  name 
no  end  so  high  as  this,  to  which  all  things  have  so 
powerfully  yet  so  silently  conspired.  Therefore  we 
rest  in  the  assurance  that  man  is  the  chief  end  of  all 
this  array  of  means,  of  earth  and  seas,  of  law  and 
order,  of  opportunities  and  teachings,  of  temptations, 
sorrows,  joys.  In  him  is  the  end.  All  the  spiritual 
powers  unfold  under  the  infinitely  various  ministry 
of  the  world  of  nature,  society,  and  events.  And 
when  we  witness  a  few  great  minds,  a  few  good 
men  who  could  die  for  mankind  in  the  cause  of 
truth  and  righteousness,  we  feel  satisfied  that  the 
great  demand  of  reason  is  answered,  which  requires 
that  the  end  should  justify  the  means,  that  it  should 
be  as  great  as  they. 

But  it  is  only  on  the  ground  of  the  immortal  life 
that  this  is  true.  If  death  operates  to  the  final  ex 
tinction  of  all  the  lights  that  God  and  nature  have 
kindled  on  earth  ;  if  it  annihilates  all  thought,  love, 
hope,  memory,  consciousness,  being,  what  is  the 
permanent  result  of  this  vast  and  sublime  machinery 
of  means  ?  No  permanent  end  is  accomplished.  A 
plan  whose  formations  and  annihilations  are  equal 
must  end,  if  end  it  may,  in  nothing  ;  whilst  its  end 
less  operation,  if  that  may  be  supposed,  could  only 
tend  to  exhibit  for  ever  the  singular  phenomenon  of 
destroying  all  that  it  builds,  of  making  the  creative 
and  the  annihilative  agencies  equal  in  their  action, 


THE    IMMORTAL   LIFE.  337 

so  far  as  respects  the  highest  nature  and  powers,  on 
Avhich  they  operate.  The  architect  who  should  for 
ever  build  magnificent  temples,  but  who  should  bum 
them  to  ashes  always  as  soon  as  a  series  of  them  had 
been  completed,  Avould  somewhat  justly  symbolize 
the  plan  of  the  universe  respecting  man,  provided 
there  is  no  continuity  of  mind  and  being  beyond  the 
present  life.  I  would  therefore  believe  in  the  im 
mortal  life,  because  its  denial  not  only  contradicts  a 
desire  and  need  of  my  nature,  but  because  it  ascribes 
the  gross  folly  I  have  named  to  the  universe  ;  because 
it  denies  to  it  an  ultimatum  corresponding  to  the 
greatness,  variety,  and  richness  of  its  many  means 
and  influences.  But  how  gloriously  the  scene 
changes,  when  immortality  is  believed  !  Then  all 
things  are  as  seriously  prophetic  as  the  soul  itself. 

6.  If,  as  I  have  shown,  the  soul,  as  constituted  of 
God,  is  the  germ  and  basis  of  its  destiny,  then  must 
the  great  fact,  whatever  it  is,  be  manifested  in  some 
clear  phenomena  and  satisfactory  signs.  There  are 
many  ends,  doubtless,  for  which  each  thing  exists. 
But  nature,  in  all  its  forms,  bears  some  clear  evidences 
of  these.  The  light  bears  witness  to  its  end.  So  do 
the  air,  water,  earth,  cold,  heat,  attraction,  —  indeed 
all  the  elements  and  natural  agencies  indicate  many 
of  the  cardinal  ends  for  which  they  exist  and  operate. 
The  blossoms  of  the  tree  predict  future  fruit.  The 
eye  is  the  prophecy  of  light,  and  the  ear  of  sound, 
before  objects  are  seen,  or  sounds  are  heard.  The 
wings  of  the  bird  predict  its  flight,  long  before  it  may 
leave  the  parent-nest  to  try  the  air.  True  to  such 
analogies  does  the  greater  nature  put  forth  its  signs 

29 


338  THE    IMMORTAL    LIFE. 

of  greater  destiny.  No  great  purpose  seems  to  be 
unindicated,  when  the  agencies  that  are  to  fulfil  it 
are  understood.  As  leaves  and  blossoms  on  the 
trees  of  June,  humanity,  under  every  sky,  puts  forth 
these  strong  and  beautiful  prophecies.  The  mere 
thought  of  immortality  as  human  is  one  of  these. 
Man  cannot  send  a  thought  into  any  subject  that  is 
above  the  sphere  of  his  nature,  no  more,  indeed,  than 
may  the  sea  fish,  the  forest  animal,  the  sky  bird. 
No  nature  can  get  an  idea  above  its  range.  The 
desire  of  endless  life,  deeper  than  all  else,  is  in  the 
heart.  We  may  suppose  the  animal  loves  to  exist. 
But  man  alone  has  the  thought,  desire,  and  belief  of 
everlasting  being,  illumined  by  a  clear  knowledge 
of  certain  death,  and  many  probable  sorrows  between 
himself  and  it.  These  phenomena  point  to  a  future 
world  as  plainly  as  rivers  tend  to  their  seas. 

Deep  also  in  the  soul's  depths  is  the  sentiment  of 
goodness,  of  justice,  as  being  supreme.  In  their 
certain  and  final  triumphs  we  unconsciously  confide. 
This  confidence  is  the  central  power  of  all  religious 
trust,  under  the  wrongs  and  evils  of  life.  Hence 
justice  predicts  another  state  as  necessary  to  the 
completion  of  its  own  work.  Goodness  provides 
satisfying  objects  for  all  the  natural  desires.  "  Thou 
openest  thine  hand,  and  satisfiest  the  desire  of  every 
living  thing."*  When  we  consider  this  system  of 
natural  wants  and  adequate  satisfactions,  and  think 
for  a  moment  of  the  deep  thirst  implanted  in  our 
natures  for  continued  existence,  and  of  the  unper- 

*  Ps.  cxlv.  16. 


THE    IMMORTAL    LIFE.  339 

fected  condition  of  all  requiring  a  future  and  a 
progressive  life,  must  not  the  clouds  of  scepticism 
disappear  before  the  verified  goodness  of  the  pro 
vident  Creator  ?  He  who  has  provided  for  the 
body's  thirst  has  not  neglected  the  deepest  craving 
of  consciousness.  Moral  fear  points  the  same  way, 
Its  blackest  hoverings  are  prophetic.  A  latent  feel 
ing  in  each  and  all  of  us  that  we  are  connected  with 
distant  periods  of  future  time,  time  evidently  beyond 
the  limits  of  our  appointed  years,  is  to  this  purpose. 
You  speak  of  an  age  centuries  in  advance.  Your 
hearer  knows  that  the  dust  will  rest  on  his  coffin 
long  before  its  first  thought  shall  be  revealed.  Yet  he 
involuntarily  feels  interested  in  the  time  anticipated; 
nor  can  he,  without  violation  to  all  that  is  natural  in 
his  mind  and  feelings,  associate  personal  nonentity 
with  the  distant  age.  Why  is  the  soul  interested  in  all 
time  ?  Why,  in  extending  the  mental  research  into 
distant  space  among  other  worlds  and  systems  of 
worlds,  does  a  real  and  lively  interest  spring  up  in 
those  far-off  portions  of  space  ?  We  know  the  pre 
sent  life  is  necessarily  confined  to  a  small  spot.  If 
this  life  is  all,  why  does  this  interest  in  the  distant, 
in  all  space,  so  far  as  we  know  it,  so  unbidden  spring 
up  ?  I  know  of  but  one  answer  to  these  questions, 
which  is  the  soul's  immortality.  It  belongs  to  all  time 
and  to  all  space,  and  therefore,  when  it  contemplates, 
must  be  conscious  of  this  illimitable  interest.  How 
may  a  spiritual  descendant  of  Him  who  pervades 
this  boundless  space,  and  frames  its  worlds,  fail  to 
respond  to  its  grandeur,  to  feel  an  interest  in  all 
His  manifestations  ?  Seeds  cannot  long  be  dormant 


THE    IMMORTAL    LIFE. 

in  rich  soils.  The  reality  founded  in  our  nature  must 
in  many  ways  unfold. 

7.  The  idea  I  seek  to  establish  is  greatly  strength 
ened  by  the  law  of  progress  which  belongs  to  the 
human  mind.  This  is  one  of  the  greatest  distinc 
tions,  if  not  the  first,  that  may  be  stated  in  the  separa 
tion  of  human  nature  from  all  other  races,  and  orders 
of  life  and  intelligence.  Man  alone  enlarges  his 
science  by  permanent  acquisition.  The  most  skilful 
of  the  animal  races  knew  as  much  ages  ago  as  to 
day.  No  one  truth  has  been  added.  If  they  ever 
learn  from  human  training,  that  learning  is  never 
communicated  to  their  kind.  But  man  multiplies 
his  sciences  indefinitely.  No  limits  can  be  imagined 
to  the  number  and  varieties  of  his  thoughts.  This 
age  has  discoveries  unknown  to  the  ancients.  Re 
ligion,  ethics,  hope,  language,  are  great  and  distin 
guishing  attributes ;  in  all  of  which,  man  vindicates 
his  separation  from  and  superiority  to  every  living 
race. 

He  has  an  idea  of  perfection  in  every  department 
of  action  that  is  far  above  his  accomplishment,  which 
promotes  the  progress  for  which  he  is  designed. 
But  who,  I  ask,  has  fully  come  up  to  his  idea  ? 
What  artist  ever  testified  that  he  had  perfectly  ex 
pressed  his  divinest  thought  ?  What  saint,  however 
eminent  his  virtue,  could  say  that  he  has  always  lived 
his  highest  light  ?  The  best  of  us,  all  of  us,  fall 
below  our  standards  of  perfection.  In  the  myriad 
races  of  animal  life,  we  see  that  perfect  skill  is 
realized.  No  lofty  ideal  shades  their  performance. 
The  lark  sings  its  entire  power  of  harmony ;  but,  in 


THE    IMMORTAL   LIFE.  341 

man's  song,  he  always  knows  what  is  diviner  than 
his  utterance.  The  yearnings  of  the  spirit  after  an 
unfound  good,  the  dissatisfaction  which  sends  its 
shadows  on  the  manly  brow,  the  incomplete  charac 
ter  of  the  best  of  lives,  predict  another  sphere.  Other 
races  mature  in  the  present  state :  our  own  does  not. 
Millions  are  in  the  possession  of  the  richest  treasures 
of  undeveloped  capacity,  whilst  the  law  of  a  perpet 
ual  progression  pervades  their  being.  This  towering 
up  of  the  idea  of  a  perfection  above  all  actualization, 
as  mountains  over  the  plain,  viewed  in  connection 
with  the  obscured  and  slumbering  wealth  of  the 
undeveloped  powers,  pleads  strongly  for  a  new  state, 
a  new  world,  where  human  nature  may  fulfil  its 
ideal,  and  unfold  the  wealth  of  its  whole  capacity. 

It  is  remarked  of  the  best  minds,  that  they  reach 
no  state  above  which  their  aspirations  do  not  tend. 
Each  height  discloses  a  new.  The  fact  that  we  may 
conceive  such  a  progress,  that  each  new  state  always 
predicts  one  above  and  beyond  it,  is  evidence  of  an 
endless  life ;  whilst  this  progress,  unlike  vast  indi 
vidual  accumulation  of  earthly  means,  tends  to  en 
rich,  not  to  impoverish,  the  many. 

Thus  far  I  have  sought  witnesses  in  the  soul  itself. 
It  seems  to  me,  that  the  more  this  nature  is  examined, 
the  more  marked  will  be  its  distinction  from  all  other 
natures.  More  and  more  will  it  appear  as  the  end 
of  the  creation.  More  and  more  will  it  appear  that 
man's  recognitions,  in  different  ages,  of  the  immortal, 
of  the  ceaseless  mind,  in  the  visible  phenomena  of 
the  universe,  as  well  as  his  worship  of  the  great 
Original,  justify  the  conclusion  of  human  immortality. 
29* 


342 


THE    IMMORTAL    LIFE. 


The  respect  commanded  even  by  the  human  form 
owes  its  origin  to  the  idea,  that  it  is  the  temple 
and. home  of  a  manhood,  a  mind  that  is  of  immeasur 
able  worth.  Hence  the  sacredness  of  persons  over 
other  organizations  of  matter.  The  ocean-like  capa 
city  of  happiness  unfilled,  the  facts  of  sorrow  and 
remorse,  as  well  as  all  the  diviner  aspirations,  with 
united  voice  speak  of  the  immortal  life.  To  this 
truth  there  are  witnesses  awful  and  sublime.  The 
late  astronomer  of  France  gazed  a  long  time  in  the 
night's  silence,  watching  the  perturbations  of  the  then 
most  distant  planet  known.  He  saw  that  these  were 
very  great ;  so  great,  said  he,  as  to  evidence  a  world 
beyond  it.  Thus  convinced,  he  continued  to  con 
centrate  his  vision,  until  his  eye  was  filled  with  the 
ray  of  a  new  world  beyond.  Thus  do  these  trem 
blings  of  humanity  in  the  adverse  winds,  these  sway- 
ings  to  and  fro  in  error  and  sorrow  and  sin,  intimate, 
in  the  calm  distance  of  time,  another  world. 

In  the  simple  fact  of  worship,  in  the  sense  of  the 
infinite,  in  the  existence  of  so  vast  a  hope  in  human 
history,  in  the  supreme  value  of  mind,  in  the  ultima 
tum  which  the  ministries  of  nature  imply,  in  the 
signs  which  the  soul  puts  forth  in  the  form  of  thought, 
belief,  and  desire,  and  in  the  law  of  illimitable  pro 
gress  which  the  Creator  has  written  on  the  human 
spirit,  I  have  found  the  evidences  of  this  great  trust. 
To  me  they  are  satisfactory.  The  voice  that  gives 
the  great  support  is  the  voice  of  religion.  It  always 
includes  immortality.  As  men  have  too  long  looked 
abroad  and  to  foreign  sources  for  the  kingdom  of 
heaven,  so  have  they  for  immortality.  Man  slowly 


THE    IMMORTAL    LIFE.  343 

learns  to  seek  the  fountain  in  himself.  Perhaps  the 
chief  power  that  assures  the  majority  of  the  race  in 
this  hope  is  one  that  most  could  not  well  define,  a 
consciousness  not  to  be  perfectly  stated  in  argument, 
resulting  from  the  nature  of  the  spiritual  powers  as 
being  everlasting.  The  might  of  this  sentiment  is 
sufficiently  attested  in  the  fact  that  faith  has  tri 
umphed  over  the  appearances  of  death,  the  infirmi 
ties  of  nature,  and  the  various  sophistry  which  per 
verted  talent  and  genius  have  sometimes  arrayed 
against  it. 

But  there  is  mystery,  which  God  has  permitted  to 
overhang  this  subject,  far  more  interesting  than  exact 
demonstration.  No  Scriptures  dissipate  this.  With 
great  light  shining  on  the  fact,  we  know  not  the 
modes.  Futurity  is  always  mystery.  We  know 
not  to-morrow  ;  still  to-morrow  comes. 

That  mind  reaches  its  meridian,  and  then  seems  to 
decline,  has  favored  the  spirit  of  doubt  on  this  sub 
ject.  But  this  is  the  argument  of  appearance  mostly  ; 
for  the  failing  bodily  organization  is  the  manifesting 
and  operative  medium  of  mind,  and,  whatever  power 
the  mind  itself  might  possess,  its  manifestations  must 
partake  of  the  weakness  of  the  instrumentalities.  We 
know  mind  only  by  its  phenomena.  The  mightiest 
exhibit  inefficient  action,  when  adequate  instrument 
alities  are  withheld.  I  claim  that  this  phenomenon 
does  not  justify  the  conclusion  that  mind  is  without 
power  ;  that,  through  a  stronger  and  better  manifest 
ing  medium,  it  may  not  display  a  far  greater  vigor 
than  ever  before. 

The  dense  shadows  of  death,  as  they  fall  on  the 


344  THE    IMMORTAL    LIFE. 

last  hour,  enveloping  in  mystery  the  departure  of 
man,  serve  to  darken  the  brightness  of  hope  to  many, 
and  I  doubt  not  to  play  an  illusion  on  the  senses. 
For,  whilst  we  see  the  living  expire,  and  look  on  the 
lifeless  form,  the  illusion  of  the  senses  seems  to  say 
that  the  whole  man  is  there  held  under  conquest  of 
death ;  whilst  it  is  plain  to  reason  that  no  man  is 
there,  that  only  the  forsaken  temple  remains.  "  Why, 
then,"  cries  the  spirit  of  doubt,  "  do  I  not  see  my 
friend  as  he  departs  ?  Why  are  not  the  evidences 
of  his  conscious  leaving  left  upon  me  ?  Why  is  he 
still  unseen  ?  "  I  answer  that  the  senses  are  material, 
and  therefore  can  become  the  medium  of  vision  only 
to  material  objects.  The  eye  never  saw  a  mind. 
Strictly  speaking,  the  friend,  the  real  departed  one, 
was  never  seen  when  among  us  ;  only  his  form  was 
known  to  the  senses.  Why,  then,  demand  what 
has  always  been  impossible  to  the  capacity  of  the 
material  vision  ?  God  is  unknown  to  the  senses. 
The  greatest  agencies  of  nature  are  invisible.  I  say 
not  that  this  silence  and  mystery  and  darkness  that 
gather  over  physical  dissolution  has  ever  caused 
much  permanent  doubt ;  for  the  faith  of  immortality 
has  been  strong  as  adamant  in  the  midst  of  these 
appearances.  The  soul  has  triumphed  over  them ; 
whilst  the  scenes  of  the  last  hour  have  often  confirmed 
the  belief,  that  the  connection  between  the  natural 
and  the  spiritual  worlds  is  far  more  real  and  intimate 
than  they  had  before  supposed. 

I  would  offer  one  remark  on  an  objection  often 
urged,  that  man  is  too  weak  a  being  to  expect  so 
great  a  good  as  immortality  ;  that  vanity  is  implied  in 


THE    IMMORTAL    LIFE. 


345 


the  entertainment  of  so  great  a  prospect.  I  have 
already  spoken  a  word  on  the  necessary  corre 
spondence  between  a  great  nature  and  a  great  hope. 
I  Avould  now  ask,  What  power  is  it  in  the  objector 
that  thus  decides  ?  I  inquire  of  him,  What  is  it  in 
you  that  becomes  so  conscious  of  the  vastness  of 
time,  of  the  greatness  of  the  universe,  of  the  great 
ness  of  the  idea  of  an  endless  life,  as  to  enable  you 
through  comparison  to  pronounce  on  the  smallness 
of  man,  and  the  disparity  between  his  nature  and 
the  greatness  you  have  sketched  ?  Is  it  a  foreign 
power  independent  of  yourself,  or  is  it  your  own 
mind  ?  Your  own  mind  it  must  be  that  sketches 
out  the  vast  idea,  that  comprehends  both  the  great 
ness,  and  the  frailty  from  which  the  comparison  is 
drawn,  and  the  verdict  is  rendered.  And  is  the  na 
ture  that  may  feel  this  greatness  otherwise  than  one 
with  it  ?  Impossible  !  He  that  may  be  inspired,  or 
even  overwhelmed,  by  his  sense  of  the  grandeur  of 
the  universe,  of  time,  eternity,  wisdom,  and  progress, 
gives  proof,  that  never  can  be  removed,  of  his  natural 
alliance  and  brotherhood  with  these  greatnesses.  I 
am  inclined  to  think  that  the  erroneous  conclusion, 
that  immortality  is  too  great  for  man,  proceeds  from 
the  circumstance,  that  all  who  thus  judge  only  see 
a  part  of  his  nature,  and  regard  it  as  the  whole. 
That  which  makes  him  one  with  the  greatness  that 
lies  in  the  standard  of  comparison  is  unseen.  Per 
haps  there  is  a  natural  illusion  to  be  avoided  here. 
For  as  no  one  beholds  his  entire  person  in  a  mirror, 
neither  does  any  one  see  his  entire  mind  reflected 
before  him.  If  that  which  sees  may  be  distinguished 


346  THE    IMMORTAL    LIFE. 

from  what  it  sees,  then  only  a  part  of  one's  self  is 
usually  imaged  forth  in  the  ordinary  effort  of  intro 
spection  ;  whilst  it  escapes  notice  that  the  compre 
hensive  power  and  elements  of  the  highest  greatness 
man  conceives  and  knows,  is  as  truly  a  part  of  him 
self  as  are  the  frailties  with  which  he  contrasts  them. 
He  who  reposes  the  oak  in  the  delicate  fibres  of  the 
acorn  has  reposed  immortality  in  the  infant  soul. 
Immortality  too  great !  God  and  goodness  are  infi 
nite.  Too  great,  do  you  say  ?  Then  account,  if  you 
can,  for  man's  capacity  to  conceive  of  it,  and  to 
judge  that  it  is  too  great. 

Perhaps  there  is  no  idea  more  intimately  con 
nected  with  this  subject  than  the  idea  of  a  spiritual 
world.  For  the  practical  question  will  be  asked, 
Where  are  the  departed  ?  What  world  receives  the 
dying  millions  ?  Where  are  our  friends  ?  And, 
though  there  is  no  wisdom  Heaven  has  revealed 
through  which  particular  localities  may  be  assigned, 
I  am  inclined  to  think  that  God  has  not  left  us 
without  some  means  of  forming  an  idea  of  the  spirit 
ual  world,  notwithstanding  we  are  surrounded  by  a 
material  universe  and  clothed  with  a  body  of  material 
senses.  It  is  certain  that  the  Scriptures  announce 
such  a  world.  In  nations  of  various  creeds  and 
religions,  this  idea  has  extensively  dawned.  Perhaps, 
however,  there  is  no  symbol  of  this  truth  so  perfect 
as  man  himself,  a  being  who  images  God  and  the 
two  worlds  which  proceed  from  him.  In  man  the 
natural  and  the  spiritual  invisibly  and  harmoniously 
unite  to  form  one  being.  The  one  is  seen,  the  other 
is  unseen.  So  is  there  around  us  a  seen  and  an 


THE    IMMORTAL    LIFE.  347 

unseen  world,  harmoniously  uniting  into  one  uni 
verse.  As  mind  finds  no  obstruction  in  the  material 
body,  neither  does  the  spiritual  world  meet  any 
obstacle  from  the  natural.  As  we  would  not  local 
ize  the  soul  to  any  part  of  the  bodily  organism,  nei 
ther  would  we  localize  the  spiritual  world  to  any 
part  of  the  material  world.  It  is  everywhere  and 
unconfined.  As  the  material  senses  cannot  witness 
any  of  the  purely  mental  facts,  neither  can  they 
discover  the  facts  of  the  higher  sphere,  the  beings  of 
the  spirit- world.  As  the  spiritual  nature  in  man  is 
greater  than  its  material  form,  so  is  the  spiritual 
world  greater  than  the  natural  world.  That  world 
is  unfitted  to  man  as  the  higher  stage  of  his  progress, 
unless  it  is  greater  than  this,  as  progress  is  always  an 
advance  from  less  to  greater.  As  the  human  form 
dimly  images  the  human  mind,  so  may  we  suppose 
that  the  natural  world  is  at  least  a  shadowy  likeness 
of  the  one  higher  and  greater.  Indeed,  this  likeness 
must  exist  as  the  condition  of  all  preparatory  influ 
ence  from  the  present  state,  since,  in  the  education 
of  man,  it  is  clearly  seen  that  like  alone  prepares  for 
like.  The  student  could  not  enter  upon  the  sciences 
of  the-  university,  if  there  was  no  likeness  between 
them  and  the  knowledge  acquired  in  previous  stu 
dies.  The  idea  which  lies  at  the  bottom  of  all  that 
may  be  called  preparation  is  a  similitude  between  the 
preparing  means  and  that  at  which  the  preparation 
aims.  The  present  state,  therefore,  as  a  whole,  its 
natural  scenes,  its  truths,  indeed  all  that  enters  into 
a  true  education  of  man,  is  preparatory.  •  All  things 
are  meant  as  tributary  influences  to  the  immortal  end. 


348  THE    IMMORTAL    LIFE. 

But  there  remains  a  great  and  an  awful  truth  to 
be  stated,  which  comes  within  the  dominion  of  the 
will.  The  mere  immortality  of  an  endless  being,  to 
which  the  natural  evidences  refer,  is  an  ordination  of 
the  Creator  writh  which  human  volitions  have  nothing 
to  do,  no  more,  indeed,  than  in  ruling  the  tides,  or 
the  electric  fire  of  heaven.  But,  in  the  formation  of 
character,  we  know  that  man  is  to  lay  its  foundations 
for  himself;  that  it  is  through  the  sublime  energy  of 
his  own  will  and  settled  purpose  that  he  makes  all 
things  conspire  to  his  wisdom,  virtue,  and  happiness. 
He  therefore  makes  his  real  glory  and  shame  for  the 
present ;  nor  may  we,  without  violence  to  the  supre 
macy  of  virtue  in  man's  happiness,  and  to  the  moral 
connection  which  unites  the  successive  stages  of 
human  existence  with  each  other,  deny  the  presence 
of  this  fact  in  determining  the  glory  of  the  future 
life.  Endless  existence  is  a  great  truth ;  but  an 
immortality  of  pure  affections  and  holy  employments 
is  far  greater.  And,  since  the  two  states  are  not 
isolated,  but  most  nearly  and  intimately  connected, 
since  every  period  of  life  sheds  its  moulding  influ 
ence  over  that  which  follows,  and  since  freedom  and 
energy  of  will  are  the  chief  agency  of  character,  I 
ask,  with  what  reverence,  care,  and  faithfulness 
should  each  and  all  form  their  character  now  ?  For 
every  element  in  it  prophetically  looks  onward  into 
the  infinite  distance  of  time. 

.  This  truth  of  immortality,  though  woven  into  the 
life  of  the  world,  exerts  too  little  power  in  its 
practice.  This  is  not  a  speculative  truth,  but  has 
the  weight  of  worlds.  It  should  awaken  a  deep 


THE    IMMORTAL   LIFE.  349 

self-respect.  It  should  render  the  rights  of  the 
humblest  as  sacred  as  the  immutable  throne.  It 
should  dissolve  every  oppression  on  the  face  of  the 
earth.  What !  enslave  a  being  who  is  one  with 
endless  time,  and  in  whom  the  immortal  germs  are 
unfolding !  Every  tyrant  on  the  face  of  the  earth 
denies  the  immortality  of  man,  when  he  forces  him 
into  chains.  Human  nature  never  was,  and  never 
may  be,  sacred  to  any  form  of  oppression.  This 
truth  is  the  reproof  of  every  wrong.  It  is  the  friend 
of  education,  of  all  sound  and  healthy  development. 
It  is  the  shame  of  avarice  and  sensuality.  It  is  the 
enthronement,  in  human  affairs,  of  worship  and  of 
moral  right.  It  is  the  inspiration  of  every  great  and 
deep  faith.  This  problem  of  immortality  has  often 
been  bathed  in  tears  and  solved  in  love.  How,  then, 
is  it  speculative  ?  He  who  lives  this  truth,  so  subor 
dinates  all  things  to  the  growth  and  perfection  of  the 
soul  from  which  he  lives  as  to  possess  a  repose  of 
peace,  from  which  the  external  adversities  cannot 
cast  him  down.  On  this  serene  mountain-top  we 
would  stay,  overlooking  the  dark  waves  that  inter 
vene  between  its  base  and  the  green  isle  of  being, 
Avhose  light  glimmers  in  the  distance  beyond. 


30 


3-50 


AX  ADDRESS 

OX    HUMAN   FREEDOM   AND   RIGHTS,   AND   THE 
ELEMENTS  OF  NATIONAL  GREATNESS : 

Delirfred  on  Fast  Day,  Marck  21,  1848. 


LIFE  and  nature  are  never  standing  still.  To-day 
the  wave  of  great  events  rolls  high,  and  in  many 
places  the  extraordinary  rivets  the  attention  of  the 
civilized  world.  The  armies  of  the  North  have 
rolled  the  tide  of  their  victories  back  upon  the  heart 
of  Mexico.  Months  past  have  trumpeted  the  tri 
umphs  of  Saxon  energy  in  our  ears ;  while  thousands, 
in  the  pride  common  to  man,  have  rejoiced  that  their 
country's  banner  of  burning  stripes  and  ever-multi 
plying  stars  is  waving  from  the  towers  of  the  city 
of  the  Aztecs.  This  day  the  most  solemn  debates 
absorb  the  attention  of  Congress.  The  rumor  of 
revolt  reaches  us  from  Vienna.  The  enthusiastic 
French  once  more  wave  like  harvests  in  the  winds^ 
as  the  passion  of  liberty  is  stirred  in  their  fervent 
and  changing  nature.  Their  venerable  monarch  has 
fled  before  the  storm,  found  refuge  in  the  dominions 
of  the  English  Queen  ;  whilst  the  magnificent  Tuil- 
eries,  so  long  the  home  of  royalty,  is  now  proclaimed 
a  shop  of  industry.  Government  starts  up  in  a 
republican  form.  Italy,  Austria,  and  England  know 


HUMAN    FREEDOM   AND    RIGHTS.  351 

the  unwelcome  hoverings  of  fear  at  this  example. 
Indeed,  the  monarchs  of  Europe  tremble,  lest  these 
savage  winds,  in  their  wild  play,  should  blow  off  the 
crowns  of  royalty  from  their  heads.  Are  not  these, 
fellow-citizens,  important  and  serious  times  ? 

But  this  crisis,  serious  as  it  is,  stands  not  alone. 
The  great  political  movements  and  changes,  both  of 
the  Old  and  the  New  World,  have,  for  many  years, 
united  to  reveal  more  distinctly  the  idea  of  man's 
individual  Avorth,  and  the  inherent  dignity  of  human 
nature,  which  truth  is  now  and  for  ever  the  basis  of 
all  republican  institutions.  Whatever  may  be  the 
temporary  evils  that  surround  it,  I  rejoice  to  witness 
the  general  dawn  of  this  idea.  It  proclaims  some 
actual  elevation  of  the  people,  that  they  are  conscious 
of  its  truth  ;  and  to  its  thorough  comprehension  do  I 
look  for  those  successive  changes  which  shall  so 
mould  the  governments  of  the  earth  as  to  make  them 
the  instruments  of  human  elevation  and  general 
happiness. 

The  origin,  genius,  and  success  of  our  own  govern 
ment  at  once  lay  open  to  us  the  problem  of  human 
freedom,  of  human  rights;  and  it  becomes  us  to 
study  the  elements  of  a  true  national  greatness,  that 
its  future  character  may  be  the  happy  fulfilment  of 
the  prophecies  which  cluster  about  its  youth. 

Indeed  it  is  not  strange  that  a  class  of  political 
views  more  liberal  than  those  of  the  Old  World 
should  have  sprung  up  in  the  communities  of  the 
United  States.  All  the  elements  that  form  such 
communities  have  favored  that  result ;  for  men,  com 
ing  from  different  parts  of  foreign  countries,  naturally 


352  HUMAN    FREEDOM    AND    RIGHTS. 

brought  the  most  liberal  thoughts  of  the  countries 
whence  they  came.  The  fact  that  all  nations  are 
contributing  of  their  inhabitants  to  the  formation  of 
this,  speaks  well  for  a  liberal  philosophy,  for  wider 
views  in  religion,  government,  all  things.  The  ag 
gregate  formed  of  the  several  parts  must  be  greater 
than  either  of  the  parts.  Oppression  abroad,  in  the 
first  instance,  naturally  drove  the  liberal  away  ;  and, 
since  the  government  is  known  by  its  free  principles, 
it  becomes  the  choice  of  the  more  liberal  in  foreign 
lands.  The  race,  I  think,  mentally  and  physically, 
will  improve  from  the  multiplicity  of  foreign  elements 
mingling  together.  Moreover,  there  is  a  distinct, 
marked,  and  powerful  genius  in  the  American  nation, 
which,  while  it  opens  the  arms  of  generous  embrace 
to  all  nations,  will  never  part  with  its  individuality. 
It  transforms  and  Americanizes  what  it  receives  from 
abroad,  as  each  flower  and  tree  transforms  whatever 
it  receives,  into  the  particular  nature  of  its  own  par 
ticular  life.  Thus  goes  on  the  progress  of  our 
country,  combining  the  two  great  elements  of  politi 
cal  superiority, —  eclecticism  and  transformation.  By 
the  former,  we  have  the  greatest  good  yielded  by 
the  Old  World  :  by  the  latter,  we  have  it  not  as  a 
foreign  good,  but  as  the  nutriment  of  an  original, 
American  life. 

In  a  sense  deeper  than  our  national  relation  should 
we  feel  that  we  belong  to  God  and  to  mankind. 
Yet  the  national  feeling  is  natural ;  and  the  love  of 
the  race  is  properly  gratified,  when  a  nation  is  formed 
after  such  ideas  as  render  it  an  example  and  a  benefit 
to  mankind.  And  for  this  nation  may  be  claimed 


HUMAN    FREEDOM    AND    RIGHTS.  353 

the  honor  of  having  reared  its  monument  on  the  true 
foundation  of  human  rights,  —  a  foundation  which 
had  never  been  so  truly  and  thoroughly  acknow 
ledged  before.  Man,  as  he  is  by  the  will  and  crea 
tion  of  God,  is  acknowledged  in  the  Declaration  of 
Independence  as  the  nature  in  which  inalienable 
rights  inhere.  Our  fathers  did  not  attempt  to  give 
the  philosophy  of  the  fact.  They  saw  and  asserted 
it,  leaving  the  great  truth  to  shine  in  its  own  light, 
and  to  find  a  response  in  the  heart  of  humanity,  and 
in  the  voice  of  other  ages. 

There  is  a  science  of  human  rights  which  is  more 
sacred  and  eternal  than  human  legislation,  whether 
coming  from  the  despot  or  the  multitude.  And, 
whatever  this  science  may  be,  it  is  not  for  one  man, 
but  for  all  men.  In  nature  there  are  not  the  barriers 
men  have  instituted.  He  who  proves  one  man  to  be 
a  religious  and  an  immortal  nature,  proves  this  also 
for  the  race.  One  cannot  be  separated  from  the  all 
to  which  he  belongs.  As  the  science  of  astronomy 
is  founded  in  the  nature  and  relations  of  the  stars, 
so  is  the  science  of  human  rights  founded  in  the 
nature  and  relations  of  man.  In  answer  to  the  ques 
tion,  Whence  flow  the  rights  of  man  ?  I  think  the 
true  answer  must  be,  From  the  nature  of  man.  For 
his  nature  is  the  source  of  his  relations,  duties,  and 
wants.  This  view  evidently  covers  the  whole  ground, 
since  all  human  relation,  duty,  and  want  have  their 
origin  in  what  man  is. 

But  this  natural  and  simple  view  of  human  rights 
has  long  been  overlooked.  Rights  have  been  re 
garded  as  the  grant  of  kings,  and  as  the  creation  of 

30* 


354  HUMAN    FREEDOM    AND    RIGHTS. 

law.  But  might  we  not  as  well  ascribe  the  creation 
of  truth  to  him  who  utters  it  ?  May  we  not  as 
wisely  ascribe  the  origin  of  the  constellations  to  him 
who,  merely  beholding  their  order,  unfolds  it  to 
others  ?  For,  man  being  the  end  of  all  legislation, 
the  reason  and  fitness  of  laws  must  be  discovered  in 
him.  These  precede  true  legislation.  The  fact 
that  man  exists,  proves  his  right  to  existence.  This 
fact  is  the  voice  of  the  highest  will.  There  is  no 
power  above  that  by  which  existence  occurs.  So, 
indeed,  the  existence  of  any  faculty  proves  the  right 
to  its  exercise.  For  why  should  a  faculty  exist,  ex 
cept  for  use,  and  for  proper  use  ?  The  existence  of 
a  want,  whether  of  mind  or  body,  proves  that  the 
satisfaction  of  the  want  may  be  sought.  For  why 
should  there  be  a  want  of  nature,  except  to  be  satis 
fied,  and  properly  satisfied  ?  My  right  to  use  my 
limbs  is  founded  in  the  fact  that  I  have  limbs,  and 
that  their  use  is  necessary  to  my  existence  and  hap 
piness.  The  right  is  mine,  for  these  are  mine.  My 
own  will  they  instantly  obey  ;  but  the  will  of  the 
mightiest  princes  cannot  stir  a  joint  or  a  finger,  till 
my  own  gives  them  bidding.  Another  cannot  see, 
hear,  or  feel  for  me.  God  could  give  to  man  no 
plainer  proof  of  his  right  to  enjoy  the  beauties  of 
nature  than  he  has  done  in  giving  him  eyes,  and  a 
capacity  to  know  and  relish  the  beautiful.  No  higher 
right  to  the  freedom  of  speech  can  be  found  than  the 
simple  existence  of  the  faculty  of  speech.  Thought 
seeks  utterance  ;  and  speech  is  its  medium.  The 
power  and  the  necessity  of  thought  in  each  individual 
prove  the  right  to  think.  The  existence  of  a  free 


HUMAN    FREEDOM    AND    RIGHTS.  355 

thinking  nature  is  the  supreme  argument,  overthrow 
ing  all  despotism  imposed  on  its  freedom.  \Vlien 
your  own  thoughts  kindle,  words  spontaneously  flow. 
Your  volition  easily  moves  your  tongue.  But  where 
is  the  tyrant  who  can  wield  it  for  you  to  the  utter 
ance  of  one  poor  syllable  ?  If  God  had  designed  a 
prince,  a  priest,  or  a  noble  to  have  dictated  your 
speech,  he  would  have  established  an  intimate  con 
nection  between  his  will  and  your  power  of  utterance. 
The  tyrant  cannot  move  your  real  will,  though,  by 
the  array  of  his  power,  you  may  be  overawed  and 
obey.  Your  capacity  to  know  and  find  truth  estab 
lishes  your  right  to  seek  it.  Your  instinctive  reve 
rence  for  it,  your  power  of  carrying  it  into  practice, 
and  its  adaptation  to  the  good  of  your  nature,  prove 
your  right  to  obey  it.  Heaven  could  bestow  no 
brighter  intimation  of  its  design,  that  man  should 
explore  the  varied  fields  of  truth  around  him,  than  it 
has  done  in  the  gift  of  a  strong  desire,  and  an  ample 
capacity  to  know.  We  have  a  right  to  obey  the 
laws  of  our  being.  Indeed  we  have  no  right  to  dis 
obey  them.  The  love  of  society,  the  love  of  the  beau 
tiful,  and  the  power  to  act,  prove  the  abstract  right 
of  every  man  to  enjoy  society,  to  relish  the  beau 
tiful,  and  also  to  act.  Man's  nature  adapts  him  to  the 
outward  universe.  His  wants  crave  its  supplies.  And 
his  abstract  right  to  the  earth  is  apparent  in  the  fact 
that  it  exists  for  him,  that  he  is  able  to  subject  it  to 
his  wants.  Primitive  deeds  were  written  in  the  consti 
tution.  There  is  a  law  of  humanity  which  prompts 
accumulation,  and  what  one  honestly  acquires  is  as 
much  his  as  the  law  that  prompted  the  acquisition. 


356  HUMAN    FREEDOM    AND    RIGHTS. 

The  character  of  each  person  is  built  by  himself,  and 
is  therefore  his  own.  He  has  a  right  to  it  just  as  he 
has  built  it ;  and,  as  his  love  of  respect  is  innate,  he 
who  slanders  his  character  robs  him  of  a  happiness 
which  is  lawfully  his.  The  person  is  a  part  of  our 
nature,  and  the  consciousness  of  each  is  that  his 
person  is  his ;  and  no  one  may  injure  its  health  and 
life,  without  violating  his  rights,  and  the  fundamental 
laws  of  human  happiness,  founded  in  the  nature  of 
each  and  every  man.  The  right  of  worship  is  nature- 
based  ;  for  a  religious  element  is  a  part  of  humanity, 
and  the  varied  worship  of  the  earth  is  but  its  expres 
sion.  Thus  does  it  clearly  appear  that  all  human 
rights  have  a  common  source,  the  nature  of  man,  as 
formed  by  Almighty  God.  This  is  its  perpetual 
fountain. 

But  this  doctrine  of  human  rights  needs  be  guarded 
from  abuse.  The  manner  in  which  the  natural  thirsts, 
wants,  and  tendencies  should  be  met,  constitutes  an 
other  and  a  serious  question.  One  faculty  and  want 
should  never  be  gratified  to  the  injury  of  another  ; 
and  over  all  should  the  moral  sentiment  of  eternal 
right  preside.  The  whole  nature  is  to  be  considered, 
in  which  the  intellectual  and  moral  powers  are  the 
just  governors  and  guides. 

We  have  gained,  I  think,  one  point,  which  is  that 
the  rights  of  man  are  to  be  learned  from  his  nature, 
that  this  is  their  grand  source.  When  we  look  to  this 
quarter  for  evidence,  it  is  overwhelming  in  favor  of 
freedom  of  thought,  freedom  of  speech,  and  freedom 
of  action.  Even  in  the  souls  of  the  prostrate  and 
the  ruined,  are  witnesses  to  this. 


HUMAN    FREEDOM    AND    RIGHTS.  357 

Now,  we  claim  that  the  American  government,  in 
its  constitutional  structure,  stands  upon  the  idea  I 
have  attempted  to  develop.  It  is  the  worth  and  dig 
nity  of  man's  nature  on  which  the  temple  of  repub 
licanism  is  reared.  There  is  no  other  source  for 
inalienable  rights.  Why  has  man  the  rights  of  life, 
liberty,  and  the  pursuit  of  happiness  ?  Is  it  because 
government  has  granted  them  ?  What  is  govern 
ment  ?  Whence  does  it  flow  ?  It  is  the  creature, 
not  the  creator,  of  man.  Government,  whether  good 
or  evil,  always  flows  from  man,  and  consequently 
can  have  nothing  which  man  has  not.  How  absurd, 
therefore,  the  idea  that  governments  create  rights, 
that  an  action  creates  new  faculties  and  prerogatives 
in  the  actor  !  The  king  is  but  a  man ;  and  his  wisest, 
happiest  administrations  only  prove  what  man  may 
do,  not  what  a  divine  right  may  achieve.  Why  do 
these  rights  appertain  to  man  ?  I  claim  that  there  is 
but  one  answer  to  this  question ;  and  this  is  because 
he  is  man,  because  he  has  immortal  powers  to  be 
developed  and  perfected,  because  the  possession  of 
his  freedom  is  necessary  to  his  being  the  full,  com 
plete  man.  In  the  nature  and  life  of  man,  there 
fore,  the  principles  of  government  are  to  be  studied. 
Confucius  said,  "  Study  man  in  man." 

Self-government  is  thus  based.  I  am  taught  by 
experience  and  inward  admonition,  that  I  ought  to 
govern  myself.  Each  man  has  a  power  over  himself 
that  no  other  can  possibly  have.  No  man  is  nobly 
governed  but  by  the  wisdom  and  virtue  of  his  own 
mind.  So  of  a  state  and  a  nation.  I  know  it  has 
been  called  a  paradox,  this  idea  of  self-government, 


358  HUMAN    FREEDOM    AND    RIGHTS. 

because  it  is  affirmed  that  government  itself  implies 
that  the  governed  and  the  governor  are  not  the  same. 
I  deny  that  this  is  fairly  implied.  For,  if  one  man 
rightly  governs  himself,  it  is  plain  that  the  governor 
and  the  governed  are  one  being.  If  an  individual 
self-government  unites  the  ruler  and  the  ruled  into 
one  being,  Avhy  may  not  the  state  and  the  nation 
unite  the  same  elements  ?  I  claim  the  ideas  of  the 
Declaration  as  containing  a  truer  philosophy  of  man 
and  of  government  than  any  which  have  been  ut 
tered  since  the  introduction  of  Christianity,  though 
our  attempt  to  actualize  them  is,  of  course,  defi 
cient. 

As  reason  and  conscience  create  no  law  of  truth 
and  right,  but  simply  report  their  unchanging  princi 
ples,  so  true  legislation  discovers  the  rights  of  man  and 
the  principles  of  a  national  success,  and  acknowledges 
these  in  its  laws  and  enactments.  But,  so  long  as  we 
regard  human  rights  as  founded  in  legislation,  tradi 
tion,  or  the  will  of  potentates,  we  are  blind  to  the 
fact  that  man  is  man. 

Still  the  seeds  of  republican  philosophy  came 
from  the  old  world,  wind  and  wave-wafted,  to  these 
aboriginal  shores.  The  old  is  the  parent  of  the  new 
in  government,  science,  religion,  and  art,  as  well  as 
in  the  changes  and  progressions  of  life  in  the  animal 
and  vegetable  kingdoms.  The  Revolution  uttered  a 
ripened  thought,  and  its  wars  were  in  the  main  but 
the  servants  of  its  ideas. 

I  would  now  ask  attention  to  another  branch  of 
this  subject,  —  the  true  character  of  human  freedom. 
This  implies  more  than  the  question  of  human  rights  : 


HUMAN    FREEDOM    AND    RIGHTS.  359 

it  implies  not  only  the  absence  of  outward  tyrants, 
but  a  state  of  mind  and  life.  I  am  not  sure  but  that 
freedom,  in  its  highest  and  best  sense,  is  the  rarest 
of  all  attainments.  The  freedom  of  any  being,  to 
be  entire,  should  extend  to  his  whole  nature.  Not 
one  power  can  be  exempt,  and  the  being  free.  Now, 
humanity  is  constituted  of  various  powers,  which  we 
sometimes  classify  by  the  names  of  spiritual  and 
physical.  It  is  at  once  plain  that  no  man  is  physi 
cally  free,  unless  he  is  unconfined,  unless  he  is  left 
in  the  free  command  of  his  person.  But  freedom 
to  a  human  being  has  a  higher  basis  than  the  animal 
man.  This  much  God  has  given  to  every  creature. 
The  fish  of  the  sea,  the  beast  of  the  wood,  the  bird 
of  the  air,  all  enjoy  this  physical  liberty.  The  eagle 
emblems  the  true  genius  of  freedom  in  his  lofty 
soarings.  The  flower  and  the  palm  grow  unre 
strained.  In  every  form  of  life,  beneath  the  reno 
vations  of  the  sun,  this  truth  evolves  that  all  perfect 
and  beautiful  growth  takes  place  in  the  element  of 
liberty,  and  there  only.  A  physical  nature,  to  grow 
complete,  must  have  a  physical  liberty ;  and  a  spirit* 
ual  nature,  to  grow  in  power,  demands  a  spiritual 
liberty.  A  free  air  is  to  the  growth  of  a  forest  what 
freedom  is  to  the  development  of  man.  The  end  is 
growth,  power.  The  freedom  is  but  the  oppor 
tunity. 

Treating  this  subject  as  independent  of  social 
enactments,  treating  it  simply  as  natural  and  individ 
ual  freedom,  it  implies  the  free  use  of  all  the  faculties 
possessed,  to  the  extent  demanded  by  the  health  and 
happiness  of  each.  Had  man  but  six  faculties,  he 


360  HUMAN    FREEDOM    AND    RIGHTS. 

could  not  be  perfectly  free,  having  only  the  com 
mand  of  three,  four,  or  five.  And,  allowing  him  the 
unrestrained  use  of  the  entire  number,  he  is  not  still 
free  except  he  exercises  them  properly,  so  that  one  is 
not  in  excess  over  the  others.  Now,  as  the  chief 
powers  of  man  are  in  his  mind,  his  freedom  must  be 
long  to  this  in  the  highest  sense.  I  have  spoken  of  free 
dom  as  the  opportunity  of  self-development ;  but  it  is 
as  properly  applied  to  the  opportunity  improved,  to 
that  mind  which  deeply  respects  itself,  which  holds 
its  centre  of  action  wholly  within,  that  boldly  and 
respectfully  asserts  its  rights,  that  scorns  to  act  from 
foreign  wills,  that  thinks,  speaks,  and  acts  freely 
from  inward  force,  that  holds  a  princely  sway  over 
the  habits,  that  breaks  the  bondage  of  tradition  to 
think  for  itself,  that  wields  the  great  array  of  nature, 
society,  events,  and  ideas  to  the  end  of  life,  which  is 
self-power,  that  is  to  say,  the  perfection  of  man.  He 
who  can  and  does  act  from  pure  reason  and  con 
science  is  the  freeman  of  the  earth. 

But,  on  the  contrary,  is  it  not  a  contradiction  ?  It 
is  only  through  an  inward  power  of  self-command, 
and  through  the  illumination  and  purity  of  all  the 
powers,  that  a  human  being  is  free.  Ability  of  mo 
tion  is  no  more  necessary  to  bodily  freedom  than  is 
reverence  for  truth,  and  obedience  to  moral  princi 
ple,  to  spiritual  liberty.  Indeed,  all  men  are  slaves 
whose  conduct  does  not  originate  in  the  spontaneous 
action  of  their  own  minds.  It  matters  not  where 
they  are,  nor  by  what  splendor  or  humbleness  of 
circumstance  they  are  surrounded.  I  believe,  also, 
the  idea  will  find  response  in  a  thousand  breasts,  that 


HUMAN   FREEDOM   AND    RIGHTS.  361 

no  human  being  ever  enjoyed  an  hour  of  real  inde 
pendence  under  the  violation  of  that  moral  law 
which  Heaven  has  ineffaceably  engraved  on  the  hu 
man  heart. 

Government  proper  is  a  wall  of  defence  around 
the  field  of  natural  rights.  It  is  protective  simply. 
It  works  out  nothing  for  any  man.  It  never  wields 
the  means  it  furnishes.  Each  person  is  to  do  his 
own  work,  leaning  on  social  enactment  as  his  security 
and  defence.  How  delusively  have  men  ascribed 
mysterious  powers  to  government,  as  if  it  almost 
caused  the  sun  to  arise  and  the  seasons  to  change ! 
How  little,  indeed,  do  the  laws  govern  any  one  ! 
Numberless  actions  and  mental  emotions  of  daily 
life  occur,  with  no  more  reference  to  the  laws  than  if 
they  did  not  exist;  and  yet  they  influence  char 
acter  and  happiness  most  deeply. 

Political  freedom  is  but  the  opportunity  of  a  nation 
to  put  forth  its  strength,  to  develop  its  mental  and 
moral  life.  The  cardinal  question,  therefore,  is  to 
individuals  and  nations,  To  what  end  does  your 
freedom  contribute  ?  What  do  you  bring  from  it  for 
yourself  and  others  ?  And,  from  the  true  answers  to 
these  interrogations,  we  may  determine  the  glory  and 
shame  of  all  men  and  all  nations. 

As  great  men  are  representatives  of  ideas  which 
outlive  their  personal  history,  so  all  nations,  deserving 
existence  as  such,  do  represent  on  the  stage  of  time 
such  ideas  as  determine  their  glory  and  shame  for 
history.  Civilization,  which,  on  the  whole,  has  never 
gone  backward,  is  new-shaped  and  modified  by  each 

31 


362  HUMAN    FREEDOM    AND    RIGHTS. 

particular  people  ;  so  that  the  true  mission  of  each 
nation  is  to  represent  what  no  other  does  represent 
for  the  wisdom  and  progress  of  the  world.  Chinese 
civilization  represents  the  patriarchal  idea  in  govern 
ment,  and  reverence  for  the  past ;  ideas  which  have 
held  a  stability  in  their  institutions,  in  every  sense  as 
tonishing  ;  whilst  the  Genius  of  America  takes  no 
stand  in  the  past,  but  plants  his  foot  on  the  imperish 
able  worth  and  dignity  of  human  nature.  It  assumes 
that  government  is  made  for  man,  not  man  for  it ; 
that  he  is  greater  than  legislation,  and  may  therefore 
change  its  order  to  his  wants.  The  nation,  like  the 
individual,  to  reach  its  proper  greatness,  must  seek 
the  full  development  of  all  its  physical  and  mental 
resources.  It  is  indeed  a  favoring  fact,  that  a  nation 
begins  its  existence  in  a  climate  fitted  to  thought  and 
labor,  and  on  a  soil  which  challenges  invention  and 
nerves  the  mind  to  its  subjugation.  A  rough  coun 
try,  rich  in  its  mineral,  and  tolerably  ample  in  its 
productive  resource,  with  a  climate  of  various  though 
medium  temperature,  appears  to  be  one  of  the  favor 
ing  conditions  of  a  national  greatness ;  for  the  physi 
cal  conditions  of  a  people  always  leave  their  impress 
on  character  and  achievement.  The  skies  and  as 
pects  of  Greece  physical  correspond  to  the  aspects 
of  Greece  mental ;  and,  as  the  glory  of  each  people 
over  whom  the  sea  of  destruction  has  rolled  springs 
chiefly  from  its  mind,  the  subject  -of  mental  cultiva 
tion  becomes  the  chief  of  all  questions  touching  a 
nation's  greatness.  Soil  and  climate  yield  no  immor 
tality.  It  will  be  forgotten  how  much  rice  or  corn  a 
country  has  produced,  where  the  name  of  but  one 


HUMAN    FREEDOM    AND    RIGHTS. 

great  man,  who  has  hallowed  it  by  his  genius  or 
surpassing  virtue,  shall  be  entempled  and  enshrined 
for  ever.  As  the  name  of  a  Socrates  and  a  Na 
poleon  outlives  their  earthly  fortunes,  so  does  a  na 
tion's  mind  survive  its  organic  life  ;  and,  whilst  the 
course  of  ages  shall  in  ceaseless  current  flow,  the 
great  question  that  will  be  uttered  in  the  ear  of 
the  American  past  will  be,  What  men,  what  char 
acter,  did  your  situation  and  your  institutions  pro 
duce  ?  This  question  shall  be  asked  when  every 
other  is  uncared  for. 

And  it  is  under  the  supreme  importance  of  this 
question  that  free  institutions  are  to  be  valued ;  for  it 
is  only  where  the  doors  of  honor  and  enterprise  are 
open  to  all,  that  all  are  excited  to  the  highest  action 
of  their  powers.  It  is  the  glory  of  republican  insti 
tutions  that  they  call  out  the  talents  of  a  people,  that 
they  excite  the  common  mind  to  the  acquisition  of 
knowledge,  and  that  they  train  it  to  habits  of  self- 
respect. 

Let  us,  fellow-citizens,  turn  our  eyes  to  the  Amer 
ican  Government.  It  is  now  but  a  youth,  with  the 
blood  of  a  man  beating  in  his  heart.  The  dark  pro 
phecies  of  other  days  have  been  outlived ;  and,  in  a 
career  of  increasing  power  and  prosperity,  his  eye  is 
on  a  "  misty  future  bent,"  while  his  daring  step 
treads  on  to  new  possessions.  What  shall  be  the 
consummation  of  his  strength,  and  when  his  decline, 
I  would  not  attempt  to  predict ;  but  this  much  will  I 
do,  with  all  the  assurance  that  the  union  of  cause  and 
effect  can  possibly  inspire,  —  point  out  some  means 
and  elements  of  national  glory,  which  if  not  care- 


364  HUMAN    FREEDOM    AND    RIGHTS. 

fully  incorporated  into  our  country's  life,  its  history 
will  yet  be  the  picture  of  ruins ;  as  if, 

"  O'er  temples  fallen  and  ruins  wild, 
In  scattered  proofs,  one  saw  the  light 
Of  brighter  years,  that  played  along 
An  earth  all  green,  till,  from  its  orb 
All  quenched,  it  fled  in  darkness." 

1.  And,  beginning  with  the  wants  of  which  man 
kind  are  most  readily  conscious,  I  would  notice  physi 
cal  industry.  There  is  no  permanence  of  institution  or 
happiness  without  it.    Physical  industry  is  more  than 
the  instrument  of  physical  wants.      In  causing  the 
wilderness  to  blossom  as  the  rose,  in  turning  unculti 
vated  fields  into  plains  of  golden  grain,  in  planting 
villages,  cities,  and  mansions  sacred  to  the  feeling  of 
home,  the  image  of  civilized  man  is  engraved  on  the 
face  of  nature,  whilst  the  virtues  are  fed  by  all  the 
industrial  branches  of  human  pursuit.     Industry  de 
velops  manly  power.     It  creates  the  firm  constitu 
tion,  which,  in  every  country,  is  the  basis  of  mental 
vigor  and  business-efficiency.    The  human  mind  and 
body  are  formed  to  act,  and  without  action  there  is  dis 
content.    Employment,  therefore,  is  the  chief  element 
of  a  people's  happiness ;  and  that  government  which 
best  prompts,  ennobles,  and  encourages  it  among  all 
classes,  is  best  adapted  to  the  genius  of  human  na 
ture.     Labor  is  as  noble  as  it  is  necessary.    There  is 
joy  in  the  sound  of  the  woodman's  axe,  still  more  in 
his  hearty  song,  that  echoes  among  the  joyous  hills. 
There  is  music  in  the  din  of  industry,  in  the  sound 
of  the  hammer  shaping  the  flashing  steel.     There  is 
silent  joy  in  the  ploughing  of  fields,  the  fencing  of 


HUMAN   FREEDOM   AND   RIGHTS,  365 

meadows,  the  care  of  herds,  and  in  seeing  the  growth 
of  every  seed.  Labor  undoubtedly  needs  to  be 
cleared  from  excesses,  but  never  can  it  be  dishon 
ored  ;  never  can  idleness  prey  upon  the  higher  classes, 
while  the  lower  are  doomed  to  the  severest  servitude, 
without  exhausting  the  energy  of  the  one,  and  the 
dignity  and  the  happiness  of  the  other. 

I  rejoice,  though  some  mourn  the  fact,  that  Ameri 
cans  are  a  practical,  and  not  a  theoretic  people. 
They  have  no  time  to  waste  in  dreams.  Their  energy 
seeks  expression  chiefly  in  action.  It  is  the  American 
genius,  in  judging  of  men,  to  ask,  as  did  the  Corsican 
general,  "  What  can  he  do  ?  "  not  what  can  he  say, 
or  what  can  he  conceive  ?  The  American  is  the 
Phoenician  of  the  world  ;  business  is  his  life.  The 
first  stage  of  progress  in  a  new  world  is  very  much 
the  warfare  with  physical  obstacle,  which  being  com 
pleted,  the  same  achieving  energy  rises  into  the  intel 
lectual  sphere,  and  there,  by  discovery,  invention, 
and  learning,  enriches  the  world  with  knowledge. 
Into  this  latter  epoch,  we  believe,  our  country  is 
destined  to  pass. 

2.  As  the  glory  of  a  nation  must  come  from  a 
nation's  mind,  it  follows  that  education,  based,  as  it 
ever  should  be,  on  the  worth  of  man  as  an  intellect 
ual,  moral,  and  immortal  intelligence,  is  indispensable 
to  the  attainment  of  a  nation's  proper  greatness.  The 
mind  of  a  people  must  be  called  out ;  and  that 
which  best  brings  out  its  powers,  in  the  most  perfect 
energy  and  grace,  displays  best  the  true  idea  of  edu 
cation. 

The  end  to  be  attained  is  force  of  thought,  clear- 
si* 


366 

ness  and  power  of  utterance,  elevation  of  motive, 
and  enjoyment.  I  call  that  education  through  which 
man  sees  the  truth  of  the  universe ;  through  which  he 
enjoys  its  beauty,  and  masters  its  elements ;  through 
which  he  knows  the  order  that  reigns  in  vegetation, 
in  the  animal  world,  in  the  constellations  of  stars,  in 
the  elements  around  him ;  through  which  he  com 
munes  with  the  wisdom  and  virtue  of  past  times : 
and  still  more  is  that  education,  through  which  each 
person  knows  himself,  and  by  which  he  gains  con 
tinuity,  variety,  elegance,  and  richness  of  thought. 
Howard  ascribed  the  high  morals  of  the  Swiss  to  the 
wide  diffusion  of  education  among  their  youth.  In 
high-minded  Scotland,  who  is  unable  to  read  his 
Bible  and  his  Burns  ?  Whence  the  superiority  of 
France,  Germany,  and  England  ?  Very  much  does 
it  come  from  this,  that  they  have  more  highly  edu 
cated  mind,  more  intellect  for  the  accomplishment  of 
their  ends,  more  discovery  and  invention. 

The  tendency  to  distribution,  evidently  a  distin 
guishing  feature  of  the  age,  is  peculiarly  the  spirit  of 
our  government.  Education  will  be  diffused  ;  but 
more  highly  gifted  teachers,  and  in  great  numbers, 
are  needed  to  carry  the  light  to  every  hill-top  and 
into  every  valley  of  the  nation.  A  national  university 
should  train  a  class  of  men,  superior  by  nature,  to  go 
forth  as  the  quickeners  and  teachers  of  mind  ;  —  men 
whose  influence  will  naturally  kindle  the  best  thought, 
the  highest  aspiration,  and  the  noblest  feeling,  of  which 
the  glowing  heart  of  the  American  youth  is  capable. 
This  view,  indeed,  is  not  only  sustained  by  the  wants 
of  the  country ;  but  it  was  once  honored  by  the  recom- 


HUMAN   FREEDOM   AND   RIGHTS.  367 

mendation  of  the  great  statesman,  whose  eloquent 
voice  is  now  silent  for  ever.  I  hope  for  the  time, 
when  no  man,  American  born,  will  be  unillumined 
and  uncultivated  by  the  light  of  science. 

3.  I  cannot  omit  the  view,  that  the  literature  of  a 
nation  is  one  of  its  highest,  and  certainly  one  of  its 
most  refined,  elements  of  greatness  and  honor.  By 
a  nation's  literature,  is  meant  "  the  expression  of  a 
nation's  mind  in  writing," — the  most  enduring  form 
in  which  mind  may  be  expressed.  Take  from  England 
her  Shakspeare,  her  Bulwer,  and  her  Byron;  take 
from  Caledonia  her  Burns,  her  Campbell,  and  her 
Scott ;  and  take  from  our  own  country  her  Channing, 
her  Irving,  her  Bancroft,  her  Prescott,  and  others,  and 
what  wealth  shall  replace  the  glory  gone  ?  The  poetry, 
history,  philosophy,  ethics,  and  drama  of  a  nation  are 
its  most  beautiful  monuments.  They  are  the  mirror 
of  a  nation's  genius.  They  concentrate  and  embody 
the  mental  and  the  moral  charm.  Blot  out  the  wri 
ters  of  Greece  and  of  Rome,  and  what  constellation 
pours  down  its  light  from  a  Grecian  or  an  Italian 
sky  ?  None.  No  nation,  indeed,  can  deserve  honor 
that  has  no  literature  of  its  own,  and  aims  at  none. 

The  people  of  this  nation  came  from  other  coun 
tries  ;  and  for  a  time,  at  least,  it  was  natural  to  live 
on  a  foreign  literature.  Indeed,  none  else,  for  a  time, 
could  do  as  well.  The  aged  teach.  Work  and 
business  were  the  rough  poems  which  our  country 
men  were  called  to  make.  Few  have  had  time  to 
attempt  any  other.  Nor  is  it  a  bad  sign  that  a  na 
tional  literature  is  slow  in  its  formation.  All  great 
natural  growths  are  slow.  Ours  is  begun  certainly, 


368  HUMAN   FREEDOM    AND   RIGHTS. 

but  nothing  more  than  begun.  The  act  in  the  tra« 
gedy  of  American  history  following  Colonization  Avas 
Preparation  ;  and  not  fourscore  winters  are  numbered 
since  the  third  and  great  act,  the  Revolution  ;  and 
certainly,  were  it  an  entire  century  before  it  might  be 
said  that  a  national  literature  is  begun,  the  pheno 
menon  could  not  by  any  fairness  be  construed  to  sig 
nify  an  inability  for  its  production.  The  genius  of 
our  country  is  strikingly  original  in  the  directions  in 
which  it  earnestly  inclines.  We  are  called  by  Eng 
lish  critics,  however,  a  land  of  mocking-birds,  because 
we  rely  on  foreign  literature  so  much,  and  because 
we  imitate  it  so  much.  But  I  cannot  conceive  that 
the  genius  of  a  people  should  be  original,  and  still 
never  achieve  what  is  higher  than  imitation  and  copy- 
ism.  Whom  did  Channing  imitate  ?  whom  Web 
ster  ?  whom  Emerson  ?  whom  Dewey  ?  whom  Irving 
and  Cooper  ?  whom  Willis  and  Bryant  ?  I  must  hope 
for  my  country  a  high,  brave,  and  beautiful  litera 
ture  ;  one  that  is  worthy  of  its  rivers,  mountains, 
prairies,  and  forests. 

4.  But  high  over  all  is  the  idea  of  a  national  virtue. 
The  moral  law  flows  through  a  nation's  mind  and 
life.  In  the  individual  it  is  the  highest  law  that 
judges  him.  It  is  written  on  the  heart,  and  the  dark 
est  lives  bear  its  traces.  No  man  outlives  it,  or 
proves  it  less  powerful  than  his  deeds.  The  soul  feels 
its  authority  in  the  Avhispers  and  thunders  of  con 
science.  In  the  darkness  of  early  passions  the  idea 
of  justice  breaks  forth,  and  ripens  into  clearness  and 
power  as  age  advances,  until,  in  the  eye  of  sober 
reflection,  it  is  the  grand  retributive  power  of  the 


HUMAN   FREEDOM    AND    RIGHTS. 


369 


world.  As  a  law  of  humanity,  I  ask,  how  can  a 
nation  be  truly  great,  without  paying  it  homage  ?  In 
the  midnight  gloom  of  magnificent  ruins,  the  lesson 
is  silently  read  that  violence  to  this  eternal  law  has 
sealed  the  fate  of  nations  once  high  as  the  stars  in 
fame  and  glory. 

I  know  the  reliance  usually  put  in  sage  device  and 
political  management  to  preserve  a  people  prosper 
ous  and  happy ;  but  the  cunning  of  Satan  may  as 
easily  spread  happiness  through  his  rayless  realm  as 
policy  supply  the  place  of  principle.  I  repeat  it,  that 
justice  is  the  power  that  makes  a  nation  strong.  Woe 
to  the  nation  or  the  state  that  deliberately  forsakes  it ! 
See  the  old  French  revolution,  with  its  streaming 
blood  and  its  flaming  passions  !  What  was  this  but 
the  dreadful  comment  of  nature  on  accumulated  in 
justice  ?  —  what  but  the  wild  action  of  a  bilious 
man  crazed  by  his  passions  ?  It  is  by  a  goodness  of 
morals  among  the  members  and  rulers  of  a  nation 
that  character  and  energy  are  preserved.  Institutions 
of  wrong  may  be  built  up,  and  power  for  a  time  may 
mark  them  ;  but  there  is  a  self-destruction  that  lives 
in  the  heart  of  injustice,  that  will  work  its  way  out. 
The  outraged  law  of  right  is  older  than  nations  and 
empires,  nay,  older  than  suns  and  stars ;  for  it  is  of 
the  nature  of  God  himself,  and,  like  him,  sits  in  sov 
ereign  judgment  on  the  conduct  and  destiny  of  na 
tions.  I  have  spoken  of  the  moral  law  of  humanity 
as  being  essential  to  national  as  to  individual  great 
ness  and  happiness ;  but  I  would  assign  one  other 
element  of  a  people's  glory. 

5.  This  is  religion.     I  say  religion  ;  not  meaning 


370  HUMAN    FREEDOM    AND    RIGHTS. 

thereby  a  creed,  but  the  spirit  of  worship,  the  rever 
ence  for  the  sacred,  which,  in  an  infinite  variety  of 
forms,  is  seeking  utterance  from  the  soul  in  all  climes. 
The  more  noble  the  faith,  the  nobler  the  people. 
But  a  nation  without  a  religious  faith  is  without  the 
great  pillar  of  stability  and  character.  Religion, 
being  the  chief  fact  of  human  nature,  —  as  God,  to 
whom  it  refers,  is  the  first  Being  of  the  universe,  —  is 
necessarily  an  element  of  man's  true  glory,  whether 
we  contemplate  him  as  an  individual  or  as  a  nation. 
Religion  is  the  source  of  human  virtues,  the  power 
of  responsibility,  and  the  enduring  pillar  of  every  gov 
ernment.  When  were  the  happiest  days  of  Greece 
and  Rome  ?  As  every  student  knows,  their  days  of 
glory  were  during  the  reign  of  the  gods  and  the 
goddesses,  when  the  people  had  real  faith  and  real 
worship.  Then  were  the  triumphs  of  energy,  the 
achievements  of  arms  and  of  arts.  But  when  this 
was  gone,  when  the  Epicureanism  had  eaten  out  the 
soul  of  faith,  their  hands  grew  feeble,  and  their  face 
paled  into  sickness  and  death.  From  the  tombs  of 
nations  I  draw  my  argument.  From  human  nature 
I  summon  this  celestial  witness.  Woe  to  the  nation 
that  has  no  God,  and  that  knows  no  worship  !  The 
universe  is  leagued  against  them,  and  dark  must  be 
,the  path  they  tread. 

This  nation  struck  deep  root  into  religious  ground. 
The  wave-tossed  Mayflower  was  the  ship  of  pilgrims, 
whose  deck  was  the  altar  of  the  living  God,  and 
whose  destiny  was  a  free  land,  where  the  conscience 
might  dictate  a  fearless  worship.  The  church  grew 
up  in  the  wilderness,  and  spoke  of  heaven  among  the 


HUMAN    FREEDOM    AND    RIGHTS.  371 

trees,  brooks,  and  wild-flowers  that  beautified  the 
primitive  nature  of  good  old  New  England.  And 
never  can  this  nation  dismiss  the  fear  of  God  and  the 
sanctions  of  religion,  without  also  dismissing  the  life 
and  energy  of  those  brave  and  primitive  times. 

Reviewing  the  ground  over  which  I  have  gone,  it 
appears  that  the  source  and  basis  of  human  rights 
is  the  nature  of  man.  His  freedom  is  the  unrestrained 
use  and  command  of  all  his  faculties,  to  accomplish 
the  end  of  being,  which  is  the  growth,  power,  and 
perfection  of  the  same.  And,  in  the  analysis  of  the 
means  of  true  national  glory,  I  have  spoken  of  indus 
try,  literature,  education,  morals,  and  worship.  And 
the  idea  pervading  this  analysis  is,  that  a  nation's 
glory  comes  from  its  mind ;  from  its  mind,  I  say,  as 
expressed  in  art,  literature,  jurisprudence,  and  in  all 
the  various  action  in  which  a  nation's  mind  may  be 
expressed. 

But,  in  the  proposition  that  the  rights  of  man  flow 
from  his  nature,  it  is  implied  that  human  nature 
must  be  known  before  its  rights  can  be  determined. 
And  here  has  lain  the  great  difficulty.  This  has 
been  but  little  studied,  and  therefore  but  little  known ; 
and  hence  the  degradation  of  masses,  borne  down  by 
the  civil  arm  in  the  various  ages  and  countries  of  the 
earth.  There  is  a  silent  contempt  for  man's  nature 
reposing  at  the  bottom  of  all  oppression.  As  gov 
ernment  is  both  from  man  and  for  him,  it  can  only  be 
wise  in  proportion  as  it  truly  understands  his  nature. 
Now,  no  man  can  look  into  history,  without  seeing 
that  the  idea  of  man,  as  a  mere  physical  being,  has 
often  grossly  prevailed  in  the  laws.  Anciently  he 


372  HUMAN    FREEDOM    AND    RIGHTS. 

was  regarded  as  a  being  of  the  state.  In  this  his 
individuality  was  wholly  merged.  The  terrific  ap 
peals  to  personal  fear  in  such  great  excess  imply  a 
disbelief  in  the  higher,  nobler,  and  stronger  princi 
ples  of  human  nature.  Where  is  the  state  that  ever 
placed  education  on  the  high  ground  of  the  native 
worth  and  dignity  of  man  ?  History  gives  us  no 
example.  The  ends,  I  fear,  have  belonged  too  much 
to  the  mercenary  and  the  ambitious.  Indeed,  the 
wars  in  which  millions  of  lives  have  been  wasted, 
whilst  they  exhibit  many  high  traits,  also  show  how 
little  the  rulers  of  the  world  have  valued  life,  how 
low  they  have  esteemed  humanity.  The  great  man 
of  history  is  quite  generally  presented  in  an  arbitrary 
sway  over  the  many.  Never,  my  friends,  until  man 
is  contemplated  from  his  manhood,  from  his  likeness 
to  Divinity  in  his  faculties,  will  governments  be  truly 
respectful  of  his  rights.  Never  till  then  will  they 
furnish  him  the  adequate  means  of  progress.  Never 
till  then  will  they  dread  to  invade  his  lawful  free 
dom. 

But  waiving  the  considerations  of  foreign  revolu 
tions,  over  which  a  sure  justice  shah1  preside  in  the 
final  result,  I  am  happy  in  the  thought  that  this 
country  has  passed  through  the  school  in  which 
many  foreign  countries  are  yet  to  learn  the  lesson  of 
liberty.  The  New  World  asked  the  companionship 
of  new  ideas  and  institutions,  and  the  Revolution 
came  and  granted  it.  The  ideas  of  the  Declaration 
are  the  ground  and  pillar  of  the  government,  the 
end  and  life  of  that  movement.  They  are  abstract 
thoughts ;  but  they  point  to  the  true  and  everlasting 




HUMAN   PftEEDOM   AND    RIGHTS.  373 

Source  of  human  rights  and  freedom.  They  cover 
the  whole  ground.  The  Reformation,  the  next  most 
liberal  movement,  only  asserted  human  liberty  with 
respect  to  religion.  It  was  but  a  partial  view.  It 
touched  but  one  point.  But  there  is  rio  point  un- 
embraced  in  the  Declaration.  True,  the  theory  is  in 
advance  of  the  practice.  We  have  realized,  as  yet, 
but  a  generous  compromise  between  the  errors  of  the 
Old  World  and  the  transcendent  ideas  of  the  New. 
But  I  am  not  discouraged.  These  thoughts  shall 
yet  be  fulfilled  ;  for  democracy  is  the  certain  ultimate 
destiny  both  of  the  church  and  of  the  world.  All 
human  tendency  toward  self-perfection  appears  to 
yield  to  this  promise. 

There  are  uniting  facts  to  bind  the  several  parts  of 
this  nation  together.  We  speak  a  common  language. 
Our  various  branches  of  business,  in  spite  of  com 
petition,  have  common  ties.  The  great  passion  of 
gain  unites  us.  We  are  Americans  by  birth  or  choice. 
We  have  a  common  liberty  of  religion,  though  we 
have  many  creeds.  We  are  one  in  a  common  repub 
lican  faith.  Before  the  eye  of  discontent,  spread  the 
immense  uncultivated  fields  of  the  West ;  and  the 
influence  of  past  struggles,  successes,  and  honors 
unites  with  the  exhortations  and  counsels  of  honored 
ancestors  to  cement  this  nation  into  compactness  and 
unity. 

But  to  realize  the  grand  idea  that  bases  our  na 
tional  structure,  each  citizen  should  become  a  noble 
being.  He  should  know  himself  and  his  country. 
He  should  feel  his  fraternity  with  the  human  race. 
He  should  prove  his  ability  of  self-government  by  a 
32 


374  HUMAN   FREEDOM   AND    RIGHTS, 

noble  self-control.  Then  should  we  be  worthy  of 
our  Washington  and  of  our  superior  political  truths. 
"  I  am  a  Roman  citizen  "  was  the  grand  boast  of  the 
ancient  subject  of  Caesar's  power.  But  "  I  am  a 
man  "  is  the  far  nobler  claim ;  and  this  to  prove  in 
silence  and  in  speech,  in  thought  and  in  act,  is  the 
sublimest  of  works,  and  accords  with  the  genius  of 
republican  law, 


375 


JUSTICE. 


IT  is  only  within  the  circle  of  human  volition  that 
injustice  operates ;  and  even  here  it  may  be  said,  that 
an  involuntary  retributive  law  brings  under  its  judg 
ment-sway  all  action  and  character.  The  real  laws 
of  our  being  are  perfectly  independent  of  the  will ; 
as  much  so,  indeed,  as  are  those  which  preside  over 
the  external  creation.  Man  in  his  life  may  place 
himself  in  true  and  false  relations  to  the  former  as 
well  as  to  the  latter,  thereby  receiving  a  different 
order  of  results ;  but  change  them  he  cannot.  He 
did  not  create  the  retributive  laws,  neither  can  he 
arrest  their  legitimate  action. 

In  the  grand  arrangements  of  material  nature, 
there  seems  to  be  a  perfect  physical  justice.  Each 
seed  bears  its  proper  stalk,  blossom,  and  fruit.  The 
thorn  is  nourished  equally  with  the  rose ;  and,  if 
more  might  concentrates  in  the  oak,  the  assault  of 
the  elements  is  also  stronger.  Over  all  changes  and 
reproductions  an  equal  law  presides,  whilst  every 
world  is  justly  balanced  in  space.  All  elective  com 
bination  and  decomposition  of  elements,  as  well  as 
every  harvest,  preach  that  a  harmonious  justice  flows 
through  the  material  world ;  whilst  it  is  certain  that 
the  human  heart  has  ever  yielded  the  belief,  under 


376  JUSTICE. 

the  clouds  of  barbarism,  as  under  a  higher  enlighten 
ment,  that  a  certain  Omnipotence  attaches  to  moral 
right,  and  that  its  ultimate  triumphs  are  certain. 
"  No  doubt,"  said  the  rude  barbarians  of  Melita, 
"  this  man  is  a  murderer,  whom,  though  he  hath 
escaped  the  sea,  vengeance  suffereth  not  to  live."  * 
Always  in  the  great  fears  and  hopes  of  mankind, 
the  sentiment  of  certain  justice  lies  unconsciously  at 
the  source.  • 

One  evidence  of  the  goodness  and  greatness  of  the 
end  for  which  man  is,  is  discoverable  in  the  order 
and  extent  of  the  retributive  laws  which  he  bears  in 
his  being.  These  appear  to  imply  a  wonderful  care 
for  his  nature,  or  why  should  it  be  so  skilfully  and 
powerfully  guarded  ?  There  must  be  something  of 
immense  value  where  so  many  sentinels  are  stationed 
to  keep  watch.  Within  and  without,  they  hold  a 
sleepless  vigil. 

Justice,  in  descending  from  the  Infinite,  took  gen 
eral  laws  for  the  mode  of  its  agency.  It  became 
silently  omnipresent  through  such  principles  of  matter 
and  mind  as  are  inlaid  in  the  universe  and  in  man ; 
so  that  the  great  play  of  cause  and  consequence, 
through  the  long  ages  of  time,  is,  and  must  be,  the 
sublime  drama  of  justice.  Perhaps  there  is  no 
greater  service  that  philosophy  may  render  to  re 
ligion  than  by  teaching  the  proper  source  of  retribu 
tion,  than  by  handing  over  to  her  the  inductions  to 
which  her  premises  lead.  Higher  views  than  have 
usually  prevailed  widen  and  deepen  the  confidence 

*  Acts  xxviii.  4. 


JUSTICE*  377 

of  man  in  the  divine  rule,  and  tend  to  create  a 
nobler  virtue  by  giving  it  nobler  motives, 

But,  in  assigning  to  justice  the  agency  of  retribu 
tive  laws,  it  must  not  be  supposed  that  these  are 
independent  of  God,  or  that  they  are  any  thing  more 
than  modes  of  power  ;  for  law,  neither  in  matter  nor 
mind,  is  an  actor,  but  a  method  through  Avhich  the 
Creator  acts  for  the  accomplishment  of  his  ends. 
The  presence  of  God  is  an  omnipresence,  of  the 
action  of  which  the  laws  of  the  universe  are  but  the 
modes.  A.  law  cannot  act ;  but  it  measures  the  exe 
cutive  power  that  is  back  of  it.  Every  mind  must 
act  from  itself,  and  in  acting  must  exhibit  its  perfec 
tion  or  imperfection  in  its  modes.  It  is  the  dictate 
of  natural  religion,  as  well  as  the  direct  teaching  of 
revelation,  that  God  is  a  Perfect  Mind,  that  in  him 
is  perfect  order  ;  whence  it  follows  that  all  the  modes 
of  action  becoming  his  nature  are  marked  by  order 
and  unity ;  so  that  the  uniformity  and  order  of  the 
natural  laws,  instead  of  excluding  divine  agency 
from  nature,  are  the  brightest  proofs  of  its  presence. 
The  notion  that  has  thrown  much  confusion  into  this 
subject  is  the  conception  that  Deity  cannot  or  will 
not  act  with  as  much  regularity  as  the  universe  dis 
plays,  —  that  what  marks  the  course  of  nature  must 
be  so,  and  that  a  divine  action  must  be  more  personal 
and  voluntary.  This  notion,  so  totally  blind  to  all 
philosophical  analysis,  overlooks  the  conclusion,  that, 
if  nature  sprung  from  God,  all  its  order  existed  in 
his  mind  before  it  was  embodied  into  visible  form, 
and  that  the  act  of  embodiment  could  not  have 
diminished  the  Fountain  of  order  whence  it  came. 

32* 


378  JUSTICE, 

To  treat  of  law  as  a  Deity  is  to  forget  its  meaning ; 
and  to  speak  of  nature  as  having  more  order  and 
law  than  properly  belong  to  a  divine  agency  is  to 
forget  the  lesson  of  childhood,  that  God  made  the 
world.  Justice,  therefore,  is  from  God,  wherever 
dispensed  ;  law  being  only  a  mode,  and  not  a  power. 
God  is  the  life  and  power  of  the  universe,  and  is  as 
immediately  present  through  law  as  any  actor  is 
present  through  his  modes  of  doing. 

The  ignorance  about  to-morrow  that  overshadows 
mankind  does  not  a  little  to  modify  the  freedom  of 
the  human  actor ;  for,  were  the  eye  to  behold  the 
certain  picture  of  consequences  flowing  from  partic 
ular  conduct,  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  conduct 
would  be  prompted  by  ends  more  selfish,  insomuch 
perhaps  as  to  take  from  virtue  its  freedom  and  inter 
est.  Could  men  know  at  once  all  the  miseries  that 
are  to  flow  from  a  great  vice,  they  would  shrink  from 
the  act  with  horror ;  but  this  would  be  chiefly  a 
horror  at  consequences,  and  not  at  the  principle  of 
wrong.  Know  as  much  as  we  may,  there  is  a  bal 
ance  of  the  unknown  that  leaves  the  future  somewhat 
as  a  twilight  to  the  mind  ;  and  particularly  is  there  an 
obscurity,  in  relation  to  the  distant  effects  on  char 
acter  of  present  moral  behavior,  on  the  minds  of  most 
men,  that  contrasts  strongly  with  their  foresight  on 
matters  of  secular  consequences.  But  this  limit  to 
knowledge  certainly  leaves  the  actor  more  free :  it 
gives  opportunity  to  a  higher  virtue  than  if  the  over 
whelming  tide  of  fear  were  poured  into  the  mind 
through  a  certain  perception  of  all  the  results. 

In  the  world,  too,  there  appears  to  be  a  balance  of 


JUSTICE.  379 

influences.  The  sensual  and  moral  nature  of  man 
seem  to  balance  each  other.  Neither  is  to  the  other 
necessarily  overwhelming.  Neither  vice  nor  virtue 
from  this  social  world  sends  out  an  all-controlling 
power  over  any  individual,  which,  could  it  occur, 
would  indeed  impair,  if  not  destroy,  virtue  ;  for  what 
is  virtue  ?  It  implies  always  an  inward  force  and 
freedom  of  will  so  exercised  as  to  evince  a  love  of 
right  as  the  spring  of  action.  But  the  mere  bowing 
to  an  overwhelming  power  of  surrounding  influence, 
however  good  its  sources,  does  not  imply  or  express 
it;  no  more,  indeed,  than, the  bowing  of  trees  to  the 
mighty  winds.  In  the  fact,  therefore,  that  the  in 
fluences  of  good  and  evil,  mind  and  matter,  are  so 
balanced  as  not  to  overwhelm  each  other  without  the 
decisive  action  of  the  individual,  the  possibility  and 
opportunity  of  a  real  virtue  is  given. 

The  same  view  is  held  forth  in  the  balance  of 
reward  and  punishment.  If  these  were  multiplied  a 
thousand-fold,  and  rendered  more  immediate  and 
sensuous,  so  that  all  could  witness  them  as  they  do 
outward  objects,  the  selfish  principle,  gaining  a  great 
ascendency,  would  so  dictate  conduct  as  to  jeopar 
dize  and  destroy  a  free,  spontaneous  action  from  the 
moral  feelings,  which  is  the  very  life  and  beauty  of 
goodness.  To  flee  from  a  sinking  ship  for  safety  in 
a  life-boat,  and  to  retreat  from  the  path  of  an  ava 
lanche,  argue  no  virtue ;  for  every  grade  of  charac 
ter  is  impelled  to  the  same  earnest  movement  by  the 
same  fear.  If  all  the  justice  that  a  life  works  out 
were  sent  suddenly  into  a  moment  of  time,  its  ap 
palling  power  would  not  leave  the  love  of  goodness 


380  JUSTICE. 

as  the  fountain  of  action  in  the  human  breast.  In 
the  silence  in  which  the  law  of  justice  is  more 
commonly  manifested,  in  the  invisible  nature  that 
appertains  to  much  of  human  retribution,  and  in  the 
gradual  development  and  maturity  of  its  fruits,  there 
is  a  happy  adaptation  of  righteousness  to  the  free* 
dom  of  the  will,  and  to  the  spontaneity  of  goodness. 
There  is,  therefore,  a  free  sky  bending  over  the 
ground  of  human  volition  ;  but,  after  one  has  acted, 
hills  of  granite  are  not  so  firm  as  the  retributive 
principle  that  reigns  over  the  life,  till  every  legitimate 
result  is  accomplished. 

No  man  or  nation  of  men  ever  possessed  a  quality 
that  did  not  yield  its  legitimate  fruit  in  their  retribu 
tive  history.  Rome  falling  beneath  her  effeminacy, 
and  conquering  the  world  Ihrough  her  chivalrous 
and  indomitable  courage  ;  the  Tartar  holding  China 
in  conquest,  and  himself  bowing  to  a  civilization 
higher  than  his  own ;  the  Colonies  bursting  asunder 
a  foreign  yoke,  and  building  on  a  wisdom,  not  inde 
pendent  of,  but  superior  to,  the  English  rule;  the 
French  Revolutions  bursting  forth  from  the  pent-up 
fires  of  justice  opposed  and  suppressed,  are  but 
national  echoes  of  the  fact  that  Prince  Justice  has 
reigned  on  earth,  that  he  has  dealt  with  nations  and 
kingdoms  with  a  masterly  hand.  When  two  merely 
physical  forces  meet,  it  is  nature's  justice  that  the 
less  should  yield  to  the  greater  ;  nor  is  it  otherwise 
in  the  higher  and  grander  conflicts  of  time,  in  which 
the  better  elements  do  always  finally  predominate. 

What  man  ever  had  an  unrecompensed  quality  ? 
What  virtue  is  not  able  to  reward  itself  ?  If  there 


JUSTICE.  381 

is  one,  it  certainly  is  not  worth  retaining.  It  is  a 
bad  dollar  that  will  not  gain  its  equivalent.  Howard 
loved  man  after  an  uncommon  manner,  and  have 
not  society  loved  him  as  much  ?  Nero  hated  man, 
but  did  not  as  great  a  hatred  return  to  himself? 
He  who  cares  not  for  others  is  uncared  for  by 
others.  Wise  men  and  good,  it  is  said,  have  been 
badly  treated.  This  is  granted.  But  was  the  wise 
man,  therefore,  unhappy  in  his  wisdom,  or  the  good 
man  unhappy  in  his  goodness  ?  Galileo  was  happy 
in  his  truth  ;  nor  does  the  proper  recompense  of 
virtue  lie  very  much  in  what  society  admits  or  denies. 
But,  admitting  that  it  did,  nothing  is  plainer  than 
that  society  always  gratefully  acknowledges  its  bene 
factors  as  soon  as  it  has  learned  who  they  are. 

Coleridge  saw,  in  the  case  of  the  ignorant  German 
girl,  who  repeated  entire  sentences  of  Hebrew  when 
in  a  deranged  state  of  health  (sentences  which  she 
had  formerly  heard  read  by  a  clergyman  with  whom 
she  had  lived),  an  evidence  of  the  indelibility  of 
every  impression  the  human  mind  receives,  so  that 
the  record  which  Heaven  makes  of  human  deeds 
may  all  be  written  on  the  tablet  of  the  human  heart. 
Under  this  view,  a  ray  of  light  dawns,  not  only  on 
the  possibility,  but  on  the  mode,  of  a  retribution 
through  which  nothing  is  so  venial  as  to  escape  its 
notice  and  power.  There  can  be  no  doubt,  that,  if 
a  perfect  retribution  was  ever  intended  for  man,  the 
principles  whose  agency  should  secure  it,  were  laid 
in  the  retributive  plan  ;  for  the  means  precede  the 
accomplishment  of  the  end,  and,  in  all  perfect  econo 
my,  are  adapted  to  and  connected  with  it. 


382  JUSTICE. 

It  is  very  certain  that  a  clear  view  of  this  subject 
can  never  obtain,  whilst  there  is  a  total  absence  of  a 
just  psychology.  Some  just  science  of  mind  is 
necessary  to  know  a  retribution  that  takes  place  in 
the  mind.  And  perhaps  there  is  no  plainer  proof 
that  such  a  science  either  does  not  exist  among  the 
teachers  of  the  age,  or  that  they  neglect  to  apply  it, 
than  the  adventitious  views  which  prevail.  The 
language  which  more  commonly  expresses  the  popu 
lar  idea  implies  the  absence  of  a  plan  of  justice  in 
the  nature  and  life  of  the  soul,  and  that  there  are 
ways  of  escaping  it,  or  at  least  of  postponing  all 
injury  to  an  indefinite  period. 

The  grand  central  fact  around  which  reasoning 
should  gather,  appears  to  be  this,  that  all  the  retribu 
tive  laivs,  or  the  whole  retributive  plan,  exists  in  the 
nature  of  the  being  who  is  the  subject  of  the  retribu 
tion.  The  whole  system,  man  incarnates  ;  for  every 
law  of  his  nature  has  a  power  to  reward  and  punish. 
Not  one  is  otherwise.  The  end,  that  is  to  say  the 
realization  of  justice,  is  in  man  ;  in  him  it  is  to  take 
place  ;  and  would  we  connect  the  means  with  the 
end,  these  should  be  sought  in  him  also.  The  anal 
ogy  of  other  things  indicates  this.  The  laws  through 
which  God  governs  the  solar  system  are  established  in 
that  system.  The  laws  through  which  he  brings  a  plant 
to  a  tree,  and  the  bud  to  a  flower,  repose  in  each. 
So,  indeed,  of  every  object,  from  the  atom  to  the 
world.  The  system  of  social  retributive  enactment 
is  founded  in  society ;  and,  so  far  as  concerns  the 
physical  nature  of  man,  I  opine  that  none  would 
hesitate  a  moment  before  assenting  to  the  proposi- 


JUSTICE,  383 

tion,  that  the  retributive  laws  of  the  body  are  estab 
lished  in  it ;  that  they  are  the  laws  of  health ;  that 
man  rises  through  obedience,  and  sinks  through  dis 
obedience,  thereto.  This  is  indeed  a  good  point,  not 
only  for  practical  purposes,  but  as  a  suggestion  and 
illustration  of  what  is  greater  and  higher.  The  retri 
butive  laws  of  the  body,  of  course,  must  exist  as 
long  as  the  nature  to  which  they  belong* 

But  the  soul  is  that  which  knows  the  sentiment  of 
justice,  that  takes  cognizance  of  recompense,  that 
constitutes  the  immortal  man.  Here,  all  moral  retri 
bution  holds  its  courts  ',  here  are  all  its  laws.  As  the 
elements  of  mind  are  complete  and  descended  from 
God,  it  contains  the  whole  system  of  spiritual  recom 
pense.  The  facts  of  experience  substantiate  this 
view ;  for  every  measure  of  remorse  and  degrada 
tion  occurs  through  the  laws  of  the  soul :  indeed,  no 
mental  fact  can  be  but  through  them.  Every  faculty 
is  retributive.  Nothing  fails  to  enter  into  judgment. 
The  universe  out  of  man  is  from  the  right,  and  is 
leagued  against  all  wrong.  The  thief  and  robber 
are  detected  by  the  tracks  they  leave  upon  it.  It  is 
true,  and  only  accords  with  such  as  are  true.  All, 
however,  that  it  administers  of  good  or  evil  to  men  is 
realized,  not  through  laws  out  of  man,  but  through 
laws  in  man.  The  finger  burned,  and  the  eye  filled 
with  light,  are  facts  whose  possibility  depended  on 
the  organization. 

From  the  premises  already  gained,  the  idea  of 
escape  from  justice  resolves  itself  into  the  question, 
Can  man  escape  from  himself?  can  he  sever  nature 
from  God,  and  unite  it  to  guilt  ? 


384  JUSTICE. 

But  another  truth  of  the  most  solemn  and  benig 
nant  consequence  springs  out  of  the  premises.  It  is 
this.  Retribution  is  as  everlasting  as  the  nature  of 
man.  For  as  the  physical  laws  remain  as  long  as 
the  organism  in  which  they  have  their  source,  so  the 
spiritual  laws  must  continue  as  long  as  the  nature  in 
which  they  inhere.  Both  are  equally  everlasting ; 
and,  if  they  exist,  they  act.  Thus,  retribution  is  per 
petual  and  for  ever.  Through  obedience  to  these 
laws,  humanity  ascends ;  through  disobedience,  it  de 
scends. 

The  whole  general  philosophy  of  this  matter  is  con 
tained  in  that  immortal  utterance  of  St.  Paul,  "  What 
soever  a  man  soweth,  that  shall  he  also  reap."  An 
endless  series  of  ages  could  do  no  more  than  to 
exhibit  a  continual  development  of  this  fact.  Justice 
is  over  all.  It  compasses  the  universe,  and  the  end-  x 
less  time  is  its  day.  And  however  uniform  and  per 
manent  may  be  the  retributive  laws,  law  is  not  God. 
It  is  but  the  mode  of  his  poAver  ;  although,  in  com 
mon  discourse,  we  may  at  times  only  name  the  mode, 
inasmuch  as  it  implies  the  power  for  which  it  exists. 
Under  this  view  the  Deity  is  contemplated  as  imme 
diate  and  universal  in  all  the  dispensations  of  order 
and  justice  ;  whilst  every  other  hypothesis  borders 
on  the  frozen  clime  of  a  practical  atheism,  and  leaves 
you  destitute  of  any  thing  like  a  sacred  philosophy. 


385 


SUPREMACY  OF  HEART. 


IN  the  material  universe,  there  are  few  facts  of  more 
striking  interest  than  the  tendency  of  particles  to  a 
common  centre.  This  fact,  through  an  invisible  influ 
ence,  is  constantly  verified  in  the  earth  on  which  we 
stand.  Since  man  and  the  earth  are  adapted,  may 
we  not  ask  for  an  analogous  truth  in  human  nature  ? 
What  is  its  central  power  ? 

Not  only  the  globe,  but  the  particle,  has  a  centre. 
This  tendency  to  centralization  is  universal,  —  gives 
to  each  tribe  a  chief,  to  each  community  a  leader,  to 
the  state  a  president  or  king,  to  the  church  a  bishop 
or  pope.  The  seeds  of  this  unity  and  government 
are  everywhere  sown.  But,  in  the  soul,  what  is  the 
centre  to  which  all  surface-substance  is  drawn,  to 
which  all  the  other  powers  turn  servants  and  waiters  ? 
This  central  power  is  love. 

"  All  thoughts,  all  passions,  all  delights, 
Whatever  stirs  this  mortal  frame, 
All  are  but  ministers  of  Love, 
And  feed  the  sacred  flame." 

But  whilst  man  lived  for  ages  on  his  planet,  with 
out  knowing  the  physical  fact ;  so  he  stood  for  ages 
amidst  the  moral  phenomena  of  mind,  without  mak 
ing  his  philosophy  according  to  this  view. 


386  SUPREMACY   OF    HEART. 

If  we  examine  the  particular  faculties  of  the  mind, 
and  the  various  conduct  which  men  originate,  it  will 
appear  that  they  revolve  about  the  central  love  as  the 
circling  waters  of  an  eddy.  Memory  exhibits  its 
most  wonderful  agency,  when  commanded  and  quick 
ened  by  it.  What  books,  scenes,  events,  and  ideas 
are  longest  retained  ?  Those  doubtless  on  which 
the  heart  has  poured  its  sunlight.  Who  was  ever 
unheard,  when  speaking  to  man's  or  woman's  love  ? 
He  who  pains  and  agitates  is  remembered  also, 
partly  because  self-love  and  the  love  of  order  are 
violently  stormed  by  every  assault  on  the  soul's 
composure.  The  thought  genius  has  uttered,  that 
becomes  a  fire  in  the  breast  of  the  youth,  is  bap 
tized  in  the  love  of  truth,  which  sharpens  attention 
toward  its  highest  utterances.  Can  the  miser  forget 
his  gold,  the  ambitious  his  fame,  the  philosopher  his 
thought  ? 

The  rational  power  falls  into  this  homage ;  for  it 
never  wrought  out  a  plan  which  love,  either  in  its 
good  or  vicious  forms,  did  not  originate.  The  love 
of  subsistence  and  of  action  precedes  all  industry  ;  of 
knowledge,  all  true  research  ;  of  grandeur,  all  mag 
nificence  of  constructive  skill.  Who  ever  reasoned 
justly  for  a  long  time,  without  the  love  of  truth  and 
justice  ?  Who  was  the  philosopher  who  did  not  first 
of  all  glory  in  the  connection  between  cause  and 
consequence,  who  did  not  revel  in  spirit  in  the  bliss 
of  wisdom  ?  Place  a  thousand  persons  under  a 
diversity  of  interests  (which  are  but  forms  of  men's 
affections),  and  how  variously  they  reason  !  One  can 
see  all  necessary  truth  in  a  small  creed  his  grand- 


SUPREMACY    OF    HEART.  387 

parents  gave.  Another,  who  lives  on  the  dry  limb 
of  a  different  tradition,  discovers  much  unreason 
ableness  and  danger  in  what  his  neighbor  believes. 
One  has  weighty  reasons  why  the  road  should  pass 
his  house,  and  why  a  particular  candidate  should 
be  elected  ;  whilst  others  know  the  public  would  be 
greatly  damaged.  Even  the  few  vast  minds  whose 
intellects  are  as  the  heavens  in  calmness  of  thought 
are  no  exception  to  the  loyalty  of  the  powers  to  love  ; 
since  such  minds  have  a  love  for  truth  as  wide,  as 
deep,  and  as  free,  as  are  the  powers  which  follow  the 
universal  law  so  truly.  Ends  originate  in  the  love, 
we  say,  whilst  the  executive  methods  alone  take  rise 
in  the  intellect.  Which  is  greater,  ends  or  methods  ? 
The  former  rule  ;  the  latter  serve. 

The  imagination,  though  apparently  the  freest  of 
the  faculties,  is  not  less  loyal  to  this  central  power, 
as  each  one  who  attempts  to  analyze  the  various  play 
of  fancy  may  know.  When  we  try  to  retrace  the 
steps  of  reverie,  so  as  to  recall  the  processes  of  our 
imaginative  moods,  it  will  be  found  that  the  imagina 
tion  revives  such  associations  of  the  past,  and  paints 
such  pictures  of  the  future,  as  indicate  the  predomi 
nant  love  of  the  man.  This  general  truth  would 
appear,  were  the  action  of  all  minds  laid  open  to  the 
light,  as  strikingly  in  the  good  and  the  true  as  in 
the  vicious. 

Thoughts,  which  are  so  free  as  to  be  generally 
supposed  to  move  with  no  inconsiderable  independ 
ency  of  the  volitions,  obey  the  same  law,  even  when 
they  seem  most  uncaused.  The  supreme  love  of 
each  person  may  be  said  to  dig  the  channel  through 


388  SUPREMACY    OF    HEART. 

which  thought  flows,  not  only  determining  the  way  it 
shall  go,  but  determining  also  the  clearness  and  the 
turbidness  of  the  stream.  The  miser  and  the  philan 
thropist  alike  verify  this  position.  Whoever  enters 
the  sacred  sanctuary  of  the  breast  will  see  that  mo 
tives  are  children  of  a  common  mother,  the  spirit's 
love,  all  born  of  her  and  bearing  her  likeness.  Char 
acter,  conduct,  voice,  and  feature  exhibit  the  same 
ancestral  power  which,  in  the  performance  of  its 
office,  governs  and  inspires  the  outer  faculties.  The 
great  crisis  that  often  brings  such  immensity  of  power 
and  invention  out  of  the  intellect,  does  so  through 
the  inspiring  force  of  love.  Suppose  you,  that,  aside 
from  the  love  of  personal  freedom,  safety,  of  truth 
and  principle,  of  acquisition  and  enterprise,  even  a 
tithe  of  the  moral  and  mental  energy  of  man  had 
been  developed  ?  Intellect  never  works  with  god 
like  power,  until  love  becomes  its  employer  and  in- 
spirer. 

Love  being  the  central-power  of  man,  it  may  be 
interesting  to  open  the  sacred  page  for  the  sake  of 
learning  that  this  is  also  the  central-power  of  the  Di 
vine  and  the  Eternal  Mind.  "  God  is  love."  This  is 
the  supreme  power.  From  this  He  has  always  acted, 
and  must  for  ever  act.  From  this,  therefore,  the 
universe  sprung.  Creative  wisdom  and  energy,  we 
may  suppose,  only  plan  and  execute  what  love  de 
sires  to  accomplish.  This  fact,  as  the  central-power 
of  divine  and  human  life,  becomes  one  of  the  bright 
est  evidences  that  human  nature  is  created  in  the 
likeness  of  the  Divine. 

Now,  what  is  strikingly  interesting  in  this  subject 


SUPREMACY    OF    HEART.  389 

is  the  fact  that  both  these  views  are  set  forth  in  great 
plainness  in  the  teachings  of  Christianity.  This  view 
concerning  God  is  the  chief  affirmation  of  the  New 
Testament.  It  is  said  that  his  love  for  mankind 
caused  him  to  send  his  Son  into  the  world.  The 
whole  purpose  of  Christianity,  to  enlighten,  purify, 
and  save,  implies  this  truth.  Nor  is  it  less  clear  that 
human  character,  conduct,  influence,  proceed  from 
the  central-power  already  named.  In  no  other  light 
can  we  understand  the  following  clear  and  striking 
passages :  —  "  Blessed  are  the  pure  in  heart ;  for  they 
shall  see  God."  "  From  the  abundance  of  the  heart 
the  mouth  speaketh."  "  For  from  within,  out  of  the 
heart  of  man,  proceed  evil  thoughts,  adulteries,  forni 
cations,  murders,  thefts,  covetousness,  an  evil  eye, 
blasphemy,  pride,  foolishness:  all  these  evil  things 
come  from  within,  and  defile  the  man."  There  is  a 
profound  depth  in  all  these  sayings.  How  striking, 
how  startling,  the  statement  that  an  evil  eye  proceeds 
from  the  heart,  or  the  reigning  love !  How  creative 
the  sentiment  that  stamps  its  likeness  on  the  unintel 
ligent  particles  of  matter  in  the  human  frame  !  Mys 
terious  agency ! 

Then,  were  we  to  seek  a  moral  analysis  of  nature, 
we  should  find  that  its  infinitude  of  forms  and  agen 
cies  express  this  view  as  its  central  truth.  Goodness 
is  the  sentiment  that  throbs  as  first  in  the  life  and 
heart  of  nature.  All  its  utility  and  beauty  bear  wit 
ness  to  this.  All  its  moral,  divine  expression,  all  its 
variously  instructive  laws  and  teachings,  all  its  sacred 
voices,  testify  to  this.  Then,  should  we  seek  the  ana 
lysis  of  the  purely  Christian  elements,  this  would 
33* 


390  SUPREMACY   OF    HEART. 

appear  as  the  central  principle  ;  the  charity  which  is 
greater  than  sciences,  prophecies,  and  preachings; 
which  shall  endure  for  ever,  whilst  those  forms  of 
knowledge  shall  disappear  before  still  higher  forms 
of  wisdom.  Thus  would  it  appear  that  God  and 
man,  nature  and  Christianity,  when  truly  known, 
unfold  the  same  great  element  as  the  first  and  central 
power. 

But,  whilst  this  may  be  esteemed  as  the  greatest 
truth,  there  is  the  greatest  danger  that  it  may  be 
perverted  and  misunderstood.  In  its  application  to 
God,  I  fear  it  is  mournfully  obscured  by  views  which 
tend  to  weaken  the  right  conception  of  the  greatness 
and  infinity  of  such  a  Being.  We  welcome  the  new 
revelation  of  Deity  as  the  Parent,  the  Friend,  the 
Infinite  Love.  But,  as  soon  as  this  is  done,  the  pre 
vious  conceptions  of  the  individual  as  to  what  a 
friend  will  do  and  say  become  immediately  trans 
ferred  to  God  himself;  and  these  conceptions  are  so 
mild  usually  as  not  to  harmonize  with  the  inflexible, 
and  in  many  respects  terrible,  agencies  which  enter 
into  the  operations  and  works  by  which  the  great 
aims  of  beneficence  are  achieved.  Goodness  to 
most  persons  is  but  a  soft  and  gentle  sentiment. 
Love  must  always  speak,  they  suppose,  in  voices 
mild  and  calm.  Surely  a  friend  will  be  very  gentle. 
Under  these  ideas  the  Infinite  of  God  ceases  to  influ 
ence  and  to  awe  the  worshipper.  The  great  and  the 
overshadowing  majesty  of  the  Divine  power  and  pre 
sence  are  merged  into  thoughts  of  downy  softness. 
God  becomes  an  Eternal  Smile,  a  vast  example 
of  good-natured  pliancy !  Worship  becomes  a  whis- 


SUPREMACY   OF    HEART.  391 

per,  and  preaching  a  fair  collection  of  sunbeams  and 
roses.     No  man  is  deeply  conscious  of  the  sacred 
awe  which  the  worship  of  the  Infinite  always  inspires, 
and  which  has  been  an  element  of  every  religion 
since  the  world  began.     Hence  our  present  religious 
ideas  are  not  so  creative  of  great  characters,  are  not 
adapted  to  bring  into  being  any  gigantic  forms  of 
faith  and  energy.     Must  we  not  return  once  more 
to  the  worship  of  God  as  the  Infinite,  as  the  Sover 
eign,  as  the  All-Present  ?      A  religion  which  does 
not  awe  as  well  as  charm  us,  which  does  not  impress 
us  with  the  vast  and  overshadowing  majesty  and 
might  of  God,  is  true  neither  to  nature,  the  soul,  nor 
the  sacred  writings  of  our  own  or  of  other  religions. 
I  say,  we  must  return  to  the  Infinite,  not  to  be  over 
whelmed  and  crushed  as  in  the  prostrate  homage  of 
the  orientalist,  but  to  rise  and  expand  with  the  Vast- 
ness  we  adore.      Among  the  towering  forms  and 
points  of  nature,  among  great  mountains  that  raise 
their  solemn  heads  far  into  the  skies,  among  catar 
acts  that  fill  us  with  a  vast  astonishment,  we  expand 
with  the  surrounding  shapes  of  power  and  greatness. 
They  exhilarate  us.     We  are  not  overwhelmed  and 
broken  down  by  these  material  hints  of  infinitude. 
Thus  would  we  s*tand  amidst  the  towering  truths  of 
religion,  among  the  vast  ideas  of  a  Divine  presence, 
in  the  full  possession  of  the  soul's  serenest  compo 
sure,  of  its  true  independence  and  dignity ;  not  to  be 
broken  down  by  their  grandeur,  but  to  rise  and  to 
glow  with  the  greatness  we  see  and  feel.      This 
nearness  of  Divinity  in  the  idea  of  love  has  doubtless 
given  self-recovery  to  the  worshipper,  so  that  man  is 


392 


SUPREMACY    OF    HEART. 


now  prepared  to  come  to  the  Infinite  in  a  manner 
to  be  invigorated  and  inspired  by  his  presence. 

It  should  be  remembered,  when  we  speak  of  divine 
goodness,  that  God  is  the  Infinite  Love,  and  that  the 
laws  and  agencies  by  which  this  love  is  expressed 
are  those  that  become  an  Infinite  Mind.  He  acts 
through  an  infinite  variety  of  forms.  All  the  mild 
and  gentle  agencies,  all  the  awe-inspiring  forces  of 
his  universe,  are  equally  the  needed  modes  of  good 
ness.  If  we  take  the  external  universe  as  the  type 
of  the  true  idea,  we  shall  see  that  under  the  smile  of 
beneficence  lies  the  stern  and  infinite  grandeur  of 
sovereignty.  The  order  of  nature  is  fixed.  Every 
natural  law  is  in  reality  as  inflexible  as  fate,  though 
it  operates  under  the  most  gentle  and  attractive 
forms.  Did  a  single  retributive  law  of  the  universe 
ever  say  to  him  who  might  have  run  against  it,  "  I 
beg  your  pardon  "  ?  No.  He  only  must  make  the 
change.  Indeed,  I  know  not  where  the  evidences, 
exhibiting  the  changeless  might  and  goodness  of  the 
divine  will,  would  end  if  faithfully  pursued ;  for  all 
things  become  willing  witnesses.  As  nature  must 
truly  represent  the  Mind  whence  it  came,  it  follows 
that  no  theology  is  true  which  does  not  accord  with 
its  plain  instructions.  If  nature  was  nothing  but 
down,  sunbeam,  and  zephyr,  then  I  would  listen 
more  willingly  to  a  gospel  which  is  only  down,  sun 
beam,  and  zephyr.  But  it  speaks  of  an  Infinite,  of 
a  Sovereign,  of  a  Father ;  and  the  full  power  which 
the  true  idea  of  God  is  destined  to  exert,  will  proba 
bly  never  be  witnessed,  until  these  ideas,  purified 
from  their  former  excesses,  blend  harmoniously  into 


SUPREMACY   OF    HEART. 


393 


one  representation.  Then  earnestness  will  be  re 
vived.  Religion  will  then  have  stronger  elements. 
The  softness  which  eats  out  the  very  soul  of  energy, 
when  it  becomes  the  central  principle,  will  no  longer 
unman  our  piety ;  nor  will  the  element  of  power  find 
expression  in  dogmas  of  cruelty,  that  shock  and  of 
fend  all  that  the  Creator  has  written  on  the  human 
heart.  God  is  Infinite  Love.  But  behold  through 
what  variety  of  forms,  through  what  inflexibility  of 
laws,  through  what  powerful  as  well  as  graceful 
agencies,  does  this  goodness  seek  expression  ! 

When  the  true  man  acts  from  love  as  the  central 
power,  his  modes  may  also  be  various.  He  may 
have  traits  as  stern  as  hills  of  granite-rock,  purposes 
as  permanent  as  adamant,  united  to  the  affectional 
sensibility  that  makes  him  alive  to  the  slightest  shades 
of  sentiment.  I  offer  these  remarks  to  clear  away 
the  abuses  to  which  the  idea  I  would  here  set  forth  is 
liable,  and  which  I  fear  it  not  unfrequently  suffers. 

As  love  is  the  central  principle  of  man's  life,  it  has 
the  central  Being  of  the  universe  for  its  first  object. 
He  purifies  the  heart.  He  enlarges  its  benevolence. 
Man,  or  the  race,  is  its  second.  The  universe 
that  intervenes  between  the  soul  and  the  Creator 
is  the  fuel  of  an  ennobling  and  worshipful  affec 
tion.  Perhaps  the  practical  thought  of  this  whole 
subject  is,  that  man  should  be  full  of  heart,  that  he 
should  purify  his  love,  should  be  deeply  earnest  and 
sincere.  Then  it  would  seem  that  God,  nature,  hu 
manity,  and  Christ  are  leagued  together  for  his  fur 
therance  and  support. 


394 


LIFE  AN  ORIGINAL  POWER. 


ORIGINAL  power  subordinates  and  transforms  that 
which  it  receives,  so  perfectly  that  you  no  longer  see 
the  material  it  accepts.  It  converts  to  itself,  whilst  it 
remains  unchanged,  the  sole  determining  principle. 
Judged  by  this  trait  of  original  force,  what  is  there 
so  original  as  Life  ? 

In  yonder  grove,  select  for  a  moment's  observation 
ten  trees  of  different  races,  and  five  flowers  of  dif 
ferent  orders  and  classes.  They  all  flourish  on  the 
same  soil,  and  under  the  same  sky.  Life  in  each  is 
fed  by  nutritious  particles  from  the  same  external 
sources ;  and  why  do  not  the  particles  which  feed 
this  various  life  give  a  sameness  of  character  to  each 
tree  and  flower  ?  Why  is  the  beach  so  purely  a 
beach,  the  oak  and  the  wild-rose  so  purely  them 
selves  ?  Only  because  life  is  original.  Having  a 
different  peculiarity  or  genius  in  each,  it  chooses  its 
particles  wisely,  and  transforms  them  all  into  its  own 
nature  and  uses.  As  this  originality  of  life  is  never 
lost,  each  vegetable  race  retains  its  characteristics  for 
ever.  The  chemist  may  dissolve  each  vegetative  form 
into  its  former  gases ;  but  the  life  which  combines 
them  he  can  never  dissolve.  Behold  how  many 
contributions  there  are  from  sun  and  rain  and  air 


LIFE    AN   ORIGINAL   POWER.  395 

and  earth,  to  the  life  of  every  shrub !  And  yet  who 
can  detect  in  the  living  form  the  least  indication  of 
the  sources  whence  it  lives  ?  To  common  observa 
tion,  nothing  is  said  about  these.  Every  thing  is  so 
perfectly  changed  in  growing  into  the  life  of  the 
object,  that  nothing  is  reported  of  the  former  ele 
ments.  Thus,  too,  does  life  work  in  the  many  ani 
mals  which  subsist  on  the  same  food.  Thus  in  man's 
bodily  organism  does  life  operate.  You  recognize 
the  form  of  health  and  the  face  of  joy,  but  nothing 
of  the  bread  by  which  he  lives. 

It  is  thus  with  the  soul's  life,  when  permitted  to 
work  after  its  own  law ;  when  pride,  subserviency, 
and  other  causes,  do  not  misguide  and  weaken  its 
wonderful  agencies.  The  intellect  of  the  true  man 
is  indebted  to  others :  their  thoughts  have  quickened 
his  own.  From  associates,  books,  events,  and  na 
ture,  he  constantly  receives  impressions.  Surround 
ing  influences  sustain  his  life.  But,  if  he  is  natural 
and  true,  these  are  transformed,  changed,  so  that  all 
you  see  is  himself,  not  the  associates,  books,  events, 
and  external  nature.  You  may  know  him ;  but  in 
him  you  do  not  recognize  his  helps.  It  is  after  this 
manner  that  genuine  virtue  grows.  You  witness 
the  goodness,  as  a  living  original  force,  without 
detecting  in  it  St.  Paul,  Howard,  or  all  the  host 
that  are  dear  to  sainted  memory.  Thus  is  all- 
perfect  spiritual  life  original,  capable  of  subduing 
to  its  own  genius  and  uses  the  whole  circle  of  for 
eign  impression.  In  the  virtue  of  Christ,  this  view 
is  beautifully  present.  Though  his  character  was 
manifested  amidst  the  trials  and  temptations  com- 


396  LIFE   AN   ORIGINAL   POWER. 

mon  to  others,  it  was  incomparably  above  the  sacred 
thoughts  and  most  approved  religious  standards  of 
his  times ;  whilst  the  teachings  of  the  Father  are  so 
unfolded  in  him  as  to  appear  the  natural  manifesta 
tions  of  his  own  mind.  I  know  of  no  character  so 
truly  original,  and  none  in  whom  you  detect  so  little 
of  foreign  impression.  "  In  him  was  Life." 

As  each  life  in  nature  gives  the  true  symbol  of 
original  power,  it  should  reprove  an  idea  of  some 
considerable  popularity,  that  Eclecticism  is  to  restore 
to  mankind,  or  to  win  for  them,  the  highest  wisdom 
and  happiness.  What  thought  is  more  thoroughly 
stricken  with  poverty  than  that  mere  selection  from 
a  thousand  creeds  and  theories  shall  ever  make  any 
man  rich  in  wisdom  ?  As  well  make  a  volume  of 
extracts  superior  to  the  various  force  of  one  mind, 
richly  endowed  with  creative  energy.  Life  never 
was  an  eclectic.  The  universe  would  die  in  three 
days,  if  compulsorily  brought  down  to  this  principle 
of  action.  True,  in  every  growth,  there  is  a  selec 
tion  from  various  sources ;  but  it  is  the  power  to 
change  and  to  transform  the  substances  chosen, 
to  appropriate  and  incorporate  the  changed  proper 
ties,  that  constitutes  the  higher  life-action  of  the 
world. 

New  thoughts  and  principles  naturally  take  new 
forms  of  expression.  Why  should  a  new  faith  steal 
the  phraseology  of  one  that  is  old  and  respected  ? 
What  a  laughable  attempt  had  it  been,  if  the  framers 
of  this  government  had  tried  to  have  embodied  the 
ideas  of  the  Declaration  into  the  old  monarchial 
forms !  Europe,  in  her  great  battles  for  popular 


LIFE    AN    ORIGINAL    POWER.  397 

freedom,  must  learn,  we  think,  not  to  pour  new 
wine  into  old  bottles.  The  great  Teacher  would  not 
seek  to  embody  his  new  life  and  thought  into  the  old 
forms  of  Judaism,  lest  both  should  be  lost.  And 
why  should  new  sects  or  denominations,  who  have 
had  their  origin  in  a  faith  differing  from  others,  seek 
to  win  standing  or  power  by  conformity  and  imita 
tion  ?  There  is  no  way  so  sure  to  lose  both.  No 
thing  is  so  certain  of  success  as  a  calm  faithfulness 
to  the  dictates  of  one's  own  original  life. 

Nature  also  intimates  a  good  rebuke.  She  boasts 
no  originality  of  method.  She  conceals,  rather  than 
displays,  her  noblest  processes.  Her  originality  is 
simple  and  silent.  She  also  teaches  that  life  is  pro 
tective  against  death.  Organizations  dissolve  not  till 
their  life  is  gone.  Who,  then,  should  mourn  over 
rotting  logs,  —  over  parlies  and  states  that  ought  to 
have  died  ? 


•  ; 


393 


THE  OLD  AND  THE  NEW. 


THE  old  teach  the  young.  The  young  interest  the 
old.  The  child  mysteriously  draws  around  itself 
the  attention  and  kindness  of  a  whole  company. 
Youth  also  must  care  for  age,  and  open  the  doors  of 
new  and  energetic  enterprise. 

It  is  good  to  look  out  among  material  things,  and 
behold  the  meetings  of  age  and  youth,  of  old  and 
new.  That  substance  in  the  green  leaf  of  June  is 
old  as  time,  but  the  foliage  is  new-born.  The  true 
office  of  the  old  appears  to  be  the  production  of  the 
new.  Yonder  stands  a  forest  of  many  trees,  through 
whose  tops  the  winds  of  many  winters  have  sung ; 
and  their  venerable  forms  will  soon  mingle  with  dust. 
But,  ere  they  fall,  they  drop  on  the  bosom  of  the 
earth  their  respective  seeds,  each  containing  the  en 
tire  life  and  form  of  its  parent  stock,  invisibly  and 
mysteriously  wrapped  up  in  itself.  The  earth  in 
silence  accepts  these  feeble  offerings,  and  through 
her  care  spring  up  the  new  races  of  vegetative  life. 
The  new,  in  time,  also  grows  old  ;  but,  ere  it  dis 
appears,  invests  its  life  in  seminal  forms.  Thus  goes 
on  the  great  succession.  There  is  no  conflict  here 
between  old  school  and  new  school.  All  is  calm 
and  noiseless,  except  when  the  mighty  and  dying 


THE    OLD    AND    THE    NEW.  399 

old  falls  to  the  earth  ;  when  the  genius  of  life  seems 
to  say,  "  I  have  other  uses  for  you.  Come  down, 
ye  worthy  patriarchs,  and  subserve  my  ends  by  dis 
solution.  You  have  had  your  day.  Give  place  for 
youth."  Thus  the  circle  of  life  goes  on  unceasingly. 
But,  supposing  the  old  oaks  so  stubborn  as  suc 
cessfully  to  resist  this  mandate,  what  chance  would 
there  be  for  the  acorns  ?  What  would  become  of 
nature's  youthfulness  and  inspiring  charm  ?  In  the 
animal  kingdom  the  same  law  prevails.  The  new 
perpetually  springs  from  the  old. 

There  is  something  analogous  to  what  I  have 
stated  in  the  intellectual  and  moral  world.  The 
mission  of  the  old  is  to  produce  the  new.  Old  truths 
traced  out  yield  us  new  truths.  Forget  not  Newton 
and  the  apple.  New  sciences  always  come  of  old 
ones,  of  facts  and  truths  previously  held.  The  Old 
World  discovered  the  New,  — gave  it  inhabitants  and 
laws.  As  for  the  ideas  peculiar  to  the  American 
government,  their  parentage  can  be  easily  traced  to 
Europe.  Judaism  also  preceded  Christianity  ;  and 
its  grand  purpose  was  to  prepare  the  world  for  its 
birth,  to  substantiate  and  confirm  it.  Romanism 
gave  us  the  Reformation.  From  every  old  school 
there  grows  up  a  new  school.  But  the  work  here  is 
not  peacefully  wrought,  as  in  nature,  where  a  wiser 
than  wise  men  governs.  There  is  a  fight  between 
the  two.  Men,  holding  to  the  all-sufficiency  of  the 
old  truth,  dispute  for  a  time  the  new  truth.  The  Old 
World  makes  war  on  the  New.  The  Jews  crucify 
Jesus.  Romanism  and  Protestantism  fight  great  bat 
tles.  Every  old  school  draws  a  sword  on  every 


400  THE    OLD    AND    THE    NEW. 

new  school.  But  as  the  changes  of  old  and  new  in 
vegetative  life  subserve  the  great  ends  of  the  uni 
verse,  so  there  is  a  sense  in  which  these  earnest 
conflicts  aid  the  cause  of  human  reform.  But  it 
appears  possible  that  this  good  might  be  more  peace 
fully  wrought  under  a  wider  comprehensiveness, 
were  all  disposed  to  see  that  it  takes  the  whole  world 
to  represent  all  the  truth  it  contains,  that  old  ideas  in 
faithful  hands  bring  new  ones,  and  that  no  one  mode 
of  opinion  should  last  always.  Every  epoch  exhibits 
this  contest  of  new  and  old.  It  is  readily  conceded 
that  mind  is  free ;  that  its  action  is  not  involuntary, 
like  the  growth  and  decay  of  outward  nature ;  that 
the  new  it  produces  is  not  a  necessary  copy  of  the  old. 
But  the  likeness  between  the  true  mission  of  the  old 
in  theory,  and  the  old  in  vegetative  life,  is  so  strik 
ing  ;  and  the  contrast  between  nature's  comprehen 
sive  management  of  new  and  old  in  her  dominions, 
and  the  angry  strifes  that  get  between  the  two  in 
human  sociely,  is  so  bold,  that  the  question  could  not 
be  well  suppressed,  Would  it  not  be  good,  at  least 
once  a  year,  to  send  all  old  and  new  school  belliger 
ents  into  the  forest  to  learn  from  nature  a  calm  lesson 
of  mutual  politeness  ?  Should  they  imbibe  the  spirit 
of  her  teaching,  they  would  doubtless  return  calmed 
in  their  feelings,  taking  in  a  wider  horizon,  and  bet 
ter  prepared  both  to  understand  and  to  appreciate 
each  other. 


or  CALIFORNIA  MBRARY 

Los  Angeles 


315 


3  1158  00662  7094 


UC  SOUTHERN  REG  ONAL  L  BRAKY FAC  LIT 


A  A  000023913  7 


